


















k fi~ * ' !> ’ • »^ av 'ww ♦ 




* V - 


* > 


0 - • • ’^o 


*y‘ o 

^ V 


a'^'V ' 

cO"'* % 


• a 5 *?* ”■ 

V . . 1 •.-. \ % . v' . . i-.. c 

* - - s 




^ •*. 

,*Jr 



c°^ .‘i^' % 

\ 


o V 


"•,.* aO ‘■•-oo o^ ♦,,,' A° ^ 

» O^ aV *L,<^-.'' 4 . 

<»* 



❖ ^ *■ 


A **'o,»'** A 








^O* 


■*!«^:" /■ -“o^ ■'\ 

*■ o » 0 » V *•11* A® <S^ *' e w O 



: : 
* <A 'J'f. j 

4 




\ / •' 
; 'V'i^ • 

■ '>'"V " 



^ <y 


4 O 

* e » O ’ 05> 



iO '^'*.,0’ 







o V 




# 




.- /'V '• 

’A <>•»•»* j&^ "^V * 

>* <f ••J^tLI' °o 

iN ♦ ]g‘iff/A^ - *5^^ A » 


^ ' f 

* • '’'» -A.' 

V .'^v^-, X/ 

♦ ^ ^ 


A < 




b V 


• 0 ^ V ^ ,.,^ .f> *'»«o 




: : 

; A.«b^ V -. 

<^'J. 'o . »* Jy ^ '■'-- 




5 !v A 'o.»* a' 

. t ' * ^ .cv 




% ''’^ C° 


0 •* o 


^O 
* 'I Q 


i-c ^0” 






•' ^O aO'^ %. ^•' 0 « o **\'?>'^ **'"'** P 

«^^ t*o .0^ V • * * "* Ja 

.'' .•;^iiv "-e. y^'. .>Va. \/ 


c^ *• 





Xs 












THE 


RECTOR OF ST. BARDOLPH’S, 

OR, 

SUPERANNUATED. 


THE AUTHOR OF "SALANDER AND THE DRAGON," 
“PEEPS FROM A BELFRY,” ETC. 



New York: 

THOMAS WHITTAKER, 

2 AND 3 Bible House. 


1 



COPYRIGHT, 1881. 
By R. C. SHELTON. 



Claremont Manufacturing Co. 
Printers and Binders, 
Claremont, N. H. 


PREFACE. 


As a general thing it may be considered true that 
explanation rarely suffices to explain, and that apol- 
ogy is not apologetic. Books will, for the most part, 
tell their own story, and interpret themselves. Some- 
times it may be advisable to preface a few words. 

“ Let me ask,” — says one who comes up bimiliarly 
in ,the street, “Is that Rector of St. Bardolph’s in- 
tended to be a journal of personal experience 

If there be anything disagreeable or amiss, it is to 
have a direct question put to you without warning, 
for which you are imperatively required to render up 
an immediate aye, or nay. In this juncture you are 
like a bear poked at through the bars with a stick- 
Common politeness makes it necessary to return some 
answer, if it be only a growl ; and Christian princi- 
ple to avoid subterfuge, and give the true one: to 
sheer from which course, by the slightest variation of 
an hair, would be to tell a downright lie. Suppose 
that you do not wish to answer. There is, then, one 
remedy whereby to escape from the predicament into 


PREFACE. 


viii 

which you are brought : that is, to be rude in return. 
This may be illustrat^ by the case of a country doc- 
tor. When he was going on his rounds he was very 
much annoyed by inquisitive people whom he met by 
the way, who would accost him, and compt^l him to 
rein up, and inquire what was the matter, and whith- 
er he was going. The case is that of old Doctor Min- 
ime, who, about sixty years ago, not far from the 
date of this narrative, used to be held in great esteem 
on the south shore of Long Island, a region of remark- 
able intelligence. There was not another physician 
of equal experience within fifty miles. One day, in 
an overpowering rain-storm, he was sent for to go in 
post-haste on a case of life and death. Off he went, 
with the top of his sulkey up, and his leathern apron 
upon his lap, which was soon filled with water like a 
basin — whacking a nag gifted with the virtue of en- 
durance, like his master — a good, old, raw-boned 
beast, who would go through hail, and snow, and 
sleet, and face the Atlantic breakers and the north- 
east wind, only with his head a little down. The doc- 
tor had advanced a mile or two, when just abreast of 
a gate which led by a long avenue to a farm-house on 
the Hempstead moor, he was motioned to with great 
eagerness by .an elderly woman, who at tliat moment 
opened the door of the house. She came out and 
walked through the storm, with no covering on her 
head but a cap, whose strings fluttered in the wind. 
She arrived at the gate out of breath. “ What is 
the matter ?” said the practitioner : Is any one in 
your house at the point of death “Oh, no,” said 
she ; “ but I see you a-drivin’ so fast. Do tell where 


PREFACE. 


IX 


are you s^in’ to?” — “It is none of your business,” 
replied the Doctor, and on he drove. 

Sometimes, however, you are appealed to in a form- 
al manner, hy writing. Tin's is more annoying still, 
if YOU have good reasons for remaining under the rose. 
It is an impei tinence which may cost you dear. For 
letters are a dej)artment of Letters in which few ex- 
cel. The ingenuity of “non-committalism,” which 
is a roundabout way of saying nothing, subjects you 
to sharp ridicule, and to the little venomous stings 
of*saicasm, which stick into you like arrows from the 
god of Love. But if you write, you must say what 
you mean with mathematical precision ; which again 
is destructive to the ease of epistolary correspondence, 
and will take away your reputation in that depart- 
ment, if you have any. 

The following missive has been received ; 


Reverend and Dear Sir : 

(Before quoting the letter, however, as the matter 
is one of small moment, and there may not be a het- 
' ter chance of alluding to it, I would like to ask the 
use of addressing a clergyman in this firm. It ap- 
pears to me that it is a modern atFecfation, and I do 
not remember to have encountered it in olden epis- 
tles ; although, upon this point, I am perfectly will- 
ing to plead guilty to a mistake. Why not say “ Sir,” 
or “Dear Sir,” or “Reverend Sir?” It appears to 
me that these terms of respect would suffice, hut that 
there is something both exaggerated and ridiculous in 
the titulatioQ of “ Reverend and Dear.” Not that I 


X 


PREFACE. 


do not address my own letters after the prevailing 
fashion ; but I call in question the fashion : — and 
another reason for it is an objection to'technical re- 
ligious terms.) 


Reverend and Dear Sir: — In that narrative of yours, now 
publishing in the Evergreen Magazine, entitled “The Rector of 
St. Bardolph’s,” it strikes me that there are some characters 
whom I recognize at a glance. Do tell I Have you not intend- 
ed our old friend up in Herkimer by , and our new friend 

in County, by , and Mrs. Petaskin, by ? 

By informing me truly as to the above, you will greatly 
oblige, 

Reverend and Dear Sir, 

Yours Truly. 


REPLY. 

Your delightful little epistle, including interrogations, “ reach- 
ed me in duly course of mail.” Accept my thanks. I cannot 
better illustrate my intentions than by relating an anecdote of 

the excellent Rector of St. Vincent’.s, in the town of R . 

Some years ago, being afflicted with bronchitis, he sailed to the 
Danish West Indies for the benefit of his healih. One Sunday 
morning, having been invited by the Rector, who was absent, to 
officiate in the church of St. Kitt’s, the excellent man, as the 
hour of service drew near, was greatly perplexed. The gov- 
ernor had not arrived, and he did not know whether the eti- 
quette of the place required him to begin the service, or to 
wait until he came. The se.xton was not at hand, and lie decid- 
ed, in order to be on the safe side, to wait. In the mean time, 
the bell having cea-^ed to Ldl, he sat down and conned over his 
sermon, which was so composed that he thought it would have 
a personal application to every sinner in the parish of St. Kitt’s. 


PREFACE. 


XI 


It was not until he had entered the chancel, fend had proceed- 
ed some ways, that the Danish Governor arrived, and sat down 
in a red-lined pew. 

The service being concluded, the Governor approached, and 
took him kindly by the hand. He invited him to dine with 
him — “but,” said he, “why did you not begin sooner? The 
service is so long that business often prevents me from coming 
until it is half over; but the sermon was exceHent, and there 
was one grand rascal in the congregation whom it suited exact- 
ly. I kept my eye on him during tlie whole time.” 

“ Oh, but,” said Mr. M., on the spur of the moment, and with- 
out waiting : “ Governor, I hoped that the discourse might 
apply to you.” “Oh! ah! oli !” said he. “Ha! ha! ha! 
Give me your hand — come and dine with me.” 

“ With pleasure,” said the Rev. Mr. M. 

The mail is now closing, and I have barely time to sea! this, 
but believe me ever. 

Reverend and De.ar Sir, t- 

Yours Truly, 


In ninet 3 '-nine ca5?es out of an hundred, it may be 
set down as a settled fact, that it is a very rude thing 
to ask a direct question ; and tl)ere are some good 
reasons for not answering it. But there are always 
exceptions to every good rule, as any one will perceive 
by studying the Latin grammar. 

To the formal letter of my friend a reply has been 
already given ; and to the question of my acquaint- 
ance in the street, I will render satisfaction in the like 
spirit. Half the difficulties which we have with men, 
and half the unhappinesses of life, arise from misap- 
prehension. The humble narrative which is now of- 
fered Wcis not at first intended to be published in book 


PREFACE. 


xii 

form. It was written at long intervals, and under 
many disadvantagi'S ; but, however wanting in artistic 
shape or ornament, there is nothing in it which has not 
been dictated by a desire to speak the trntli. Of the 
few personal sketches of a disagreeable kind that are 
contained herein, there is no outward mark by which 
they can be applied to any. They are, alas ! the 
types o^a multitude, not the designation of one or of 
a few. They are derived from general, not from pe- 
culiar observation. Oiherwise I should not have ar- 
rived even at the aim of a satire, and shouUl have fall- 
en below the dignity of a lampoon. Thus do I commit 
my humble pages to any fate which they may deserve, 
and will hold myself amenable and repentant for any 
sentiment contained therein, which is opposed to the 
law of charity, and to the Gospel of Christ. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. 

PAa& 

Belklir.g bow &n old Parish Is in want of a new Minister, and how a new 
broom sweeps clean, ..... . . 11 


CHAPTER H. 


How the p<H)plo are puzzled with Mr. Admnller, and how he continues to 
wax extremely popular — A Crack Sermon — The arrival of a Baronet, . 21 


CHAPTER III. 

The Progress of his History — Matrimony, . 


80 


CHAPTER rV. 

A Short Episode in the life of the Bector, . 


. 87 


CHAPTER V. 


Contlnnance of the Same, 




CHAPTER VI. 

The Bector takes a very Important Step, and its Effect on his Ministry 


40 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER VII. 


PagA 


Crosses (Not 'VTooden) — An Energetic Woman— No Isms — How Mr. Ad- 
niuller received an Invitation to a Now Parish, and the Disposition 
whiuli he made ot it, . . . . . . .53 

\ 


CHAPTER VIIL 

Certain Important Changes occur In the Parish — The Death of Mr. Van 
Sittartanuof Mrs. Vosselingen, . . . . . .62 


CHAPTER IX. 

Setting forth Certain Characteristics of the New Rector, and that a Cler- 
gyman onglii to be in a Limited Sense a Man of the World — llow 
Strife in Pai ishes arises from Misapprehension, . . 65 


CHAPTER X. 

Showing how tlie Rector Lost a Small Portion of his “ ropularity," and 
the Occasion tliereof, and liow wrong the People were, being a Contin- 
uation of the Last Chapter, ... • . 78 


CHAPTER XL 

Dow the Ladies of the Parish wish to get up a “ Fair,” in order to Estab- 
lish a Fund to Purchase a New Organ, and to Repaint the Church, 
and the Rector's Objections; With Some Remarks upon the aforesaid 
Method of Raising Money, and whether it be Legitimate, . . 83 


CHAPTER XII. 

Which treats of the Relation of Mr. Admullor to the Surrounding Reli- 
gious Bodies, ......... 96 


CHAPTER XIII. 

Which refers to the Happy Intercourse of the Rector with the Neighboui- 
Ingtlergy — Mr. Beauclerc, Mr. Singleton and Mr. Binckley, . . 106 


CONTENTS. 


vii 


CHAPTER XIV. 


Pago. 


e»K.taining an Account of somo little Misunderstanding with a Now- 
Coiner, and the Characteiistics of Mr. Pippereil, .... 


113 


CHAPTER XV. 

A Little Trouble in the Church Choir, . , 


. 12fl 


CHAPTER XVI. 


The Arrival of a Boanerges, or Son of Thunder ; Ills Influence on the 
Parish, and. how Mr. Admuller Disposed of llini. , , 131 


CHAPTER XVII. 

Containing Some Remarks on the Adventure Recounted in the Preced* 
ing Chapter, and the Parallel Case of Mr. Kiukincle, with Sundry Re< 
flections, ... ..... 150 


CHAPTER XVTII. 

Which treats of the Sunday School at St. Bardclph’s, and its Excellent 
Organization, with a Good Word for Sunday Schools of the Right 
Sort, ... ...... Id 


CHAPTER XIX. 

In which are Mentioned Some Few Particulars Concerning the Rector’s 
Family ; with a Plea for Clergymen's Children, Combating the Pre- 
vailing Opinion that they are more Intiactable than ether People’s 
Children, and Showing the Origin of the Same, .... 16T 


CHAPTER XX. 

Containing a Few Seasonable Thoughts on Books, Sermons, and Ilabits 
of Study ; and a Peep Into the*Eector'8 Sanctum, . . .174 


Vlll 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER XXL 


Page. 


How Mr. Admtiller very Innocently I’reaches a Sermon which is Con- 
sidered iVTSonal and gives Offence, witli an Account of tho Subse- 
quent Annoyances cxper cnced tliereby— Some Ueiiiarks on the 
Sufferings of the Clergy — The Character of Mrs. Spangles, , . 188 


CHAPTER XXII. 

In which some Mention is made of the Poor of the Parish — Monthly 
Alms — Tlie Old Country People — Occasional Visitors Disposed to bo 
Troublesome — Tho Aged Poor. ...... 207 


CHAPTER XXIIL 

The Williwi'.Iows, ........ 817 


CHAPTER XXIY. 

On tho Effect produced by the Secession of the Willlwlllows — ^Tho Orad- 
nal Working of the Leaven of Disaffecticn, and the Growth of Discon- 
tent — Tlie Evil influence of Mr. Pipperell and Mr. Tubingen, . . 284 


CHAPTER XXY. 

A Visit to tho Eector of St John-in-the- Wilderness, with Some Eemarka 
on School-Teaching versus Preaching, and an Account of Mr. Hinck- 
ley's Academy, ....... 240 


CHAPTER XXYI. 

How Miss Valeary's Voice becometh Cracked, and she is Rvinested not 
to Sing in the Choir, and how an Untoward Accident befel Mr. Pip- 
pcrell, and tho Fearful Consequences which Ensued, and h'»w the 
Hector had to Suffer for these Nonsensical Affairs, the whole being in- 
tended to show what Petty Feelings may sometimes Prevail In a 
Parish. . 250 


CHAPTER XXYII. 


A Short Episode, which treats of Mr. Tubingen and the little Green 
Baize Angel, . . ...... 273 


CONTENTS, 


IX 


CHAPTER XXVin. 

The Health of Mr. Admuller sensibly Declines, and he is commonly 
spoken of as Superannuated — A few Kemarks on Bronchitis — 1 he 
Old Sexton of St. Bardolph's — An Incident at SL Bardolph’s, and a few 
Remarks upon Transient Visitors, ... . 282 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

In which a Cnrsory Review is taken of the Rector's History, revealing 

some fresh Causes of Complaint, ..... 802 - 


CHAPTER XXX. 

Which recounts an Interruption at Dinner, and the Kindness of the Rev. 

Dr. Goniinbles— And a short account of the Last Days of the Rector 
of SL Bardolph's, . • . . . . . .818 


Awr.Nsix, 


39T 


t 


I 




^ *■ 

% 


y •• 




Imi. 

* • ‘y *. i . 






m 


^ ^ 


N. - 


f. 


& 


- f 



4 f 


% ff 

VV*^. - 

•>l - J' 


• « 


* ^ 



,v>> 




» « 


V . • '■••♦, 

'• ••* . *. 


4 


\ 


r . 


f 


' » 


',1 • ' 




'f' 


/► »-'' ‘ • 
r * r ^ • 


"i 




“ -'a * -' 




* ..<4 


s*jgf '. ' 

’T^'A'T.- 


V 


4 




t » 


« ^ 


yv 


V r 



- K 




Jt . \ 

" » ^ 


V »: 


« I 





TUE RECTOR OF ST. BARDOLPH’S. 


CHAPTER I. 

RELATING HOW AN OLD PARISH IS IN WANT OP A 
NEW MINISTER, AND HOW A NEW BROOM 8WrEl“S 
CLEAN. 

What an exceeding flutter and excitement Avas 

experienced in the little village of M r about 

sixty years ago, when it spread like leaven 
through the place that “ our new minister” would 
be heard for the flrst time in the parish, on the 
next Lord’s Day ! For a whole year, had that 
afflicted parish in the wilderness been without a 
Shepherd, during which time many sheep had 
gone astray to be recovered no more. They had 
been gathered into other folds, and had been feed- 
ingin strange pastures, disregarding tlieir early and 
first love. The fixed habit of attending the services 
of the Churph had become broken. Experience 
can ^lone show the irreparable damage of shut 


12 


THE EECTOE OF 


ting up a temple, consecrated to tlie service ol 
God, for a single Lord’s Day. If, as Herbert 
expresses it — 

“ The Sundays of man’s life 
Threaded together on Time’s string, 

Make bracelets to adorn the Wife 
Of the Eternal, Glorious King,” 

then will that beautiful chain by such neglect, 
be severed and broken. 

The parish of M , even at that time, desired 

a plausible and pains-taking who should 

have, like those who are most popular at this day, 
“ grace in all h'is steps, heaven in his eye, in all his 
actions, dignity and love.” Hence, they had en- 
ticed a great many “ candidates” to present them- 
selves, who went off one after another disappointed 
and lowered in their own esteem. Much had they 

heard of the fame of the young Hector of Z, Z , 

but when he was waited upon by a deputation of 
staid men, to preach as a candidate for the impor- 
tant parish of M , now vacant by the death of 

their esteemed rector, he resolutely refused to ac- 
cede to their request. Tliis remarkable conduct 
only stimulated their curiosity to the highest 
bounds. But to call him without hearing him 
was a thing not to be thought of. Nevertheless, 
as his fame was wafted to them on every breeze. 


ST. bardolph’s. 


13 


they at last hit upon an expedient by which they 
might satiate their curiosity, and also save tho 
parish from being saddled with an unacceptable 
man. Mr. Admuller was waited upon with a re- 
gular “call,” drawn out in due form from the 
wardens and vestrymen, to “ be tlieir minister for 
one year.^^ lie simply read it, folded it, con- 
firmed the folds with his thumb and forefinger, 
and returned the document to the gentlemen who 
composed tlie committee of two. Such an invita- 
tion as that he could not consider for one moment. 
They went back surprised, and told their “ expe- 
rience.” The upshot of the matter wa's, that this 
conduct confirmed them with a vague sense of his 
greatness, and he received a unanimous, uncon- 
ditional invitation to come and stay as long as he 
pleased — which he accepted. 

But what an intense excitement was felt to the 
extreme bounds of the parish, when our “new min- 
ister” was to preach his “ first sermon.” Even then, 
as now, the vicious sentiment prevailed, that the 
House of God was not a place where prayers were 
to be said, but where the fashions were to be shown 
forth, the sight gratified, and the ear tickled. The 
day was fine, not a seat was vacant ; those who 
were denominated “ poor church-goers,” turned out 
from curiosity on the present occasion, and it is 
said that some “ infidels” were present. The square 


14 


THE KEOTOR OF 


pews occupied bj tbe “quality,” were filled. 
Even the gallery, in which all the humble followers 
of the lowly One were too proud to sit on ordinary 
occasions, was thronged with eager sjpectators the 
“ black pew,” at the extreme end of the church, 
was fully occupied by Cato, and Pomp, and Jane, 
and Yaff, and CuflP, and Caesar, and Jupiter Am- 
mon, Phillis, Chloe, Clara, and Mr. Yan Sittart’s 
servants. In short all the silks, bonnets, flounces, 
furbelows, fans, smelling bottles, and other para- 
phernalia usually brought to the House of God, 
were in requisition. It is a curious fact that the 
same vanity, the same worldliness, the same winks, 
nods, recognitions, profane behaviour, found within 
the walls of St. Bardolph’s, or of any other Saint, 
in the city of New York on a Sunday morning 
now-a-days, might have been found in St. Bar- 
dolph’s, Westchester County, on a Sunday morning 
sixty years ago. Human nature is the same every- 
where, and in all ages : — 

“ Some go to Church just for a walk, 

Some go there to laugh and talk, 

Some go there the time to spend, 

Some go there to meet a friend. 

Some go to learn the Parson’s name, 

Some go there to wound his fame. 

Some go there for speculation. 

Some go there for observation. 


8T. BAUDOLPH’S. 


15 


Some go there to doze and nod, 

But few go there to worship God. 

Til ere was a small organ played by Miss Vale- 
ary, wliicb was tlie especial pride of the congre- 
gation, and it was noticed that she was now par- 
ticularly nervous when she began the voluntary, 
and involuntarily twitched in all her muscles, and 
crooked her elbows more, and bounced up and 
down as she pressed the keys, and her face flushed, 
and her trills were more rapid, and she was almost 
too excited to play — (Mr. Tubingen looking over 
her shoulder the while, in order to turn the 
leaves) — when the door of the vestry-room, (mag- 
niloquently called the Sacristy ^ within which you 
could not swing a cat round without dashing her 
brains out,) noiselessly turned upon its hinges, and 
there entered a calm, meek, pale-faced young 
man. lie seemed to partake not in the excite- 
ment which was around him, but quietly kneeled. 
Not to speak extravagantly, the silence was 
audible. When he said, “The Lord is in His 
holy • Temple, let all tlie earth keep silence 
before H im,” the flrst sound of his voice was 
a relief. The chai*m was mitigated, if not bro- 
ken. He had a pleasant voice, but a certain 
peculiarity of manner. Mr. Van Sittart thought 
that peculiarity of manner against him. It was 


16 


THE K ECTOR OF 


with much impatience that he was heard through 
the Prayers and solemn Litany. The “sermon” 
was that which would prove conclusively what 
manner of man he was. The sermon, unfortu- 
nately, was a plain, practical appeal to their con- 
sciences, without eifort, without ornament, with- 
out consciousness that there were any around 
who would judge him. Nevertheless, as they went 
out they declared themselves to he delighted. 
There was either something in his air which awed 
them and inspired them wdth respect, or they 
wished to flatter themselves, and he satisfied with 
their own judgment in selecting him. “What a 
delightful sermon ! — Do you not think that he is 
very handsome? He is a dear, good young man !” 
Tliere w’as not a mother in that congregation whc 
did not go home to trumpet his praises, nor a 
daughter in Israel whose sulfrage was not in favor 
of “our new minister.” It was immediately a 
matter of great concernment where he should he 
lodged, how he should he fed, who should con- 
tribute the most to his comfort. Mr. Yan Sittart 
called on him, and took him about the parish in 
his carriage, and invited him to dine with him. 
Mr. Yan Sittart was very kind indeed, although 
he thought the young man demure and silent. 
He was “ evidently very ignorant of the world 
but his Peverence knew a great deal more of “ the 


ST. bakdolph’s. 


17 


world” probably, than Mr. Yan Sittart supposed. 
In less than a week he Avas provided with scal- 
loped pen-wipers enough for pens to write a 
hundred sermons with ; with sermon-covers with- 
out number, and in fact overcome with all man- 
ner of “ delicate attentions.” Ilis time was taxed 
with tea-drinkings, and his stomach injured with 
sweetmeats. What a delightful young man ! It 
was observed that the Rev. Mr. Adinuller brought 
wdth him a black gown not of the finest cpiality. 
The first movement therefore in the parish, was 
to purchase for “ our new minister” a neAv gown. 
Miss Yaleary was at the head of- the Committee; 
Mr. Yan Sittart headed the subscription, and in 
less than one week the silk w'as purchased. The 
surjjlice which belonged to the church was not so 
handsome as it should be ; therefore this defect 
w^as also remedied, and in a few Aveeks the Rev. 
Mr. Adinuller walked into the chancel enveloped 
in the finest lawn, and preached his “excellent 
sennon” in the best silk which the market would 
afford.' lie Avas becoming very ];)opular. IIoav 
his Avords Avent straight home to the hearts of 
“some people,” and if “some people” Avould lay 
his AVords to heart they might be benefited. That 
Avas the general opinion. Re it observed that 
“on.- neAv minister” Avas unmarried, but as he 
“ kej.>t house,” it Avas desirable to furnish him Avith 


18 


THE RECTOR 01 


chairs, sofas, pot-hoohs, gridirons, pepper and 
salt, turkeys, roast beef, and edibles. This was 
accordingly done, until he thought of having an 
auction to sell off the superfluous commodities of 
which he had no need. For at least a year he 
observed the same demure conduct, becoming 
more and more popular all the time. Tlie more 
he turned away from i)eople, the more they 
sought him, and thought that he was delightful 
— positively “ fascinating.” He courted them by 
contempt of their frailties; he won them by abso- 
lute neglect. What a charming man ! 

There were two score beautiful young women in 
that parish who were by no means idle when any 
good project was on foot. In Dorcas associations 
their labors were abundant; but temperance, tee- 
total, and Martha Washington societies had not 
yet loomed up, for every side-board in Westchester, 
(and at that time a side-board was a notable piece 
of furniture,) was well garnished with decanters. 
Those two score beautiful young women who could 
carry through any worthy project which they 
pleased, began to think that a “Bee” should be 
given for the benefit of the young clergyman, and 
no sooner was this bee fledged and had taken wing, 
than a great buzzing ensued. When the appointed 
evening came, everybody vied with everybody in 
gifts. Butter, tea, eggs, honey, wine, money, 


8T. BAKDOLPH'8. 


19 


poured into the clerical cells. Surely Mr. Admul- 
ler could not be an anchorite. Every face beamed 
with animation, and the new minister, in the midst 
of so much charity, smiled and conversed cheerily, 
and conducted himself most charmingly in his own 
house. The young people asked him if they might 
dance, and as he smiled and replied in the affirma- 
tive. Miss Valeary took her seat at the old, thin- 
legged piano, and drew forth music enough from 
the jingling, ivory keys, to keep them in motion 
for one good hour. Thus the evening stole away 
pleasantly, and the guests retired at a suitable hour. 
At the end of one year, the “ new minister’^ nad 
become well settled in the affections of his people^ 
and they liked him very much. 


20 


THE RECTOS OF 




CHAPTER II. 

HOW THE TEOPLE ARE PUZZLED WITH MR. ADMULLEE, 
AND now HE CONTINUES TO WAX EXTREMELY POPU- 
^R — A CRACK SERMON THE ARRIVAL OF A BAR- 

ONET. 

The Rector, notwitlistanding tlie relaxation oc- 
casioned by the “giving visit,” or “Bee,” soon 
drew himself up, and maintained liis accustomed 
reserve. lie did not hold himself altogether aloof 
from society, he made the usual calls of courtesy, 
but he glided in as if only to impress by his pre- 
sence, and glided quietly out. He neither made 
a demonstration, nor permitted himself to be 
drawn out. He would nod his head and only smile 
when some positive remark was expected. But 
though repelling, he was not repulsive ; though 
quiet, he was not moody; though distant,, he was 


ST. BAJRDOH’H^S. 


21 


never abrupt. It was this impenetrability of 
character which baffled the good people of the 
parish, and set their wits bravely at work. It 
pricked their curiosity, while they believed tliat 
there was something hidden under that cloak of 
reserve which they so longed to snatch away. 
They almost wished that he would say or do 
somewhat, if not for his own credit, at least that 
they might have something to talk of. If thic • 
conduct on his part had continued always, they 
would verily have been driven, out of sheer ne- 
cessity, to find fault with that in him which was ' 
only negative. I speak of him as he appeared 
in familiar intercourse. In his ministrations he 
was by no means negative ; in his teachings he 
was not likely to be misunderstood. There all 
was direct, earnest and unmistakable. 

Tlie second year of his ministration was gliding 
quietly away, (its hours accurately tolled from the 
belfry of St. Bardolph’s,) and Mr. Admuller had 
produced no new sensation beyond that of his 
first coming, but his conduct continued painfully 
even and monotonous, when one Sunday he liap- 
pened to preach a “ crack sermon.” All his ser- 
mons were indeed excellent, but this had that 
kind or degree of excellence which made it em- 
phatically what is called a crack sermon. But 
Mr. Admuller did not know it, or he would at 


22 


THE HECTOR OE 


that time have delivered it to the flames before 
he delivered it to the people. And the people 
would not have known it, had it not been for 
Sir John Staples. It was this most extraordinary 
conjunction of a “crack sermon” and Sir John 
Staples, that produced a great era in the life of the 
Rector of St. Bardolph’s. The worthy knight, who 
now lies buried in St. Paul’s Church, New York, 
the great uncle of Mr. Van Sittart, arrived late on 
Saturday night at the house of his kinsman in 
Westchester. His equipage, though plain, was 
more sumptuous in its appointment than the sim- 
plicity of the republic would now admit. His 
advent made a bustle in the neighborhood, and 
when the morrow opened with a bright and glo- 
rious sunshine, the people went to church in 
crowds to see ,Sir John Staples. There was a 
great fluttering of fans and flaunting of ribbons, 
as heads were turned to Mr. Van Sittart’s pew, to 
look at a bald-headed man, who was as “ plain as a 
pipe stem,” and who was “ glad from the numbers 
present to see the people religiously disposed.” 
Again did Miss Yaleary ’s cheeks flush, and her 
tvliole body sympathize with her fingers in many 
a hemi-denii-semi-quaver. Mr. Admuller did not 
know of the Baronet’s arrival ; but a great many 
who did, sat bolt upright in their seats during 
prayers, to allow a more luxurious opportunity ol 


BT. BAKDOLPh’s. 


23 


staring at unconscious, curious Sir John. Mr. 
Tubingen, hasso^ behaved himself in a very 

irreverent manner. lie sat in the organ loft, and 
clapping his palms to the sides of his head, as if 
to make himself deaf during service, or that all 
his senses might be absorbed in sight, although it 
was in reality to support his head, he peered 
steadily through the curtains, save when his big 
voice was required to be summoned from Mr. 
Tubingen’s probulgent chest. Although he came 
to see, he seemed determined to make Sir John 
hear. Inconsiderate Mr. Tubingen ! Are organ- 
lofts now what they were then, or were they then 
what they are now ? Do I insult the present or 
the past by these queries? But the Rector 
preached his crack sermon, and pronounced the 
benediction, and Sir John, walking among the 
graves as he passed out, and smiling and bowing 
pleasantly to this and that Madam among his 
friends, said, “that young man is decidedly clever. 
Tliat was a capital discourse.” In less than five 
minutes, before the coachmen could bring up tho 
horses, it was buzzed about from Mr. Yan Sittart’s 
grandfather’s monument, near the chancel, down 
to the church-yard gates, and there was a perfect 
vortex of bonnets ; one lady circulating around 
the other, and whispering into tho other’s nose, 
“8:.r John says that is the finest sermon he 


24 


THE EEOl'OE OF 


ever heard in his life.” “ Sir John sa^s Mr. Ad- 
muller is extraordinary^ and Sir John”— went 
home, ate his dinner, and then to sleep. Mr. Ad- 
muller ate a sandwich in the “ sacristy,” and wrote 
his sermon for the afternoon. He did not know 
that he had preached a crack sermon in the morn- 
ing, and it is a pity that he ever knew it ; and the 
congregation never found it out until Sir John 
Staples clapped a stamp on it, for it so happened 
that he had pronounced that identical discourse, 
the text of which was taken from the gospel for 
the day, on the year before. Mr. Van Sittart 
had already stamped him as “ a good young 
man,” but beyond that Mr. Y. S. had never gone, 
(and the rest said ditto to Mr. Y. S.) although 
Mr. Yan Sittart was very kind indeed. They all 
indeed professed to like him ; there was a ro- 
mance about him ; but the most extraordinary 
thing about him was his — piety. He was “ a 
very good young man.” Now they declared him 
great. They showed in the one instance their 
want of knowledge, and in the next their want of 
wisdom. For with respect to his talents, he was 
something more than good then, and something 
less than great now. However, there was no re- 
bellion against the stamp act. On the next morn- 
ing the Baronet rolled out of the lawn in his car- 
riage and it is to be hoped that the crack sermon 


ST. baedolph’s. 


25 


die liis soul good, for the next week his ancient 
enemy, the gout, which had been quartered in his 
major toe, removed to his stomach, so long the seat 
of good living, and he expired in the city of New 
York. He fell not however, from his own ped- 
estal until he had made that of the living Hector 
solid and substantial. His word and opinion, 
several atmospheres above that of Mr. Yan Sittart, 
were like a gloss of fresh varnish over all tlie 
minister’s old sermons, although they had never 
been retouched. The “ even tenor of his way,” 
appeared to the parishioners to be at last relieved 
by the outbursting eloquence of that crack ser- 
mon ; the mystery was removed, they had at last 
something to take hold of, and they were able to 
define Mr. Admuller. He was no doubt an ex- 
traordinary man ; and now the tide of popula- 
rity, already enough full, began to swell, and 
buoy, and heave him up. They felt as if they 
could not do enough for him. Westchester 
budded and blossomed for him like the rose. Oats 
^ for his horses, hay for his cows — the fat of the 
land came in with almost exorbitant largess. In 
most little parishes at that time it was the custom 
to do a very little, and to expect a great deal ; to 
be very nice as to whom they selected ; to be con- 
tented with none other than a scholar and a gen- 
tleman, a perfect and a pious man ; to exact from 
2 


26 


THE RECTOR OF 


him individually and collectively the most ju-e- 
cise attentions ; to be very much affronted at any 
oversight ; to consider him as public property — 
and to remunerate him not more largely tlian they 
(lid their coachmen. Mr. Admuller certainly 
never could have had anything to complain of, 
receiving plenty for board, clothing, traveling 
expenses, for setting the example of a liberal 
charity, and for books. lie had at least a quid 
pro quo. If Mr. Admuller wished to import a new 
book from England, he did it. Mr. Admuller was 
not stretched upon a Procrustes’ bed, making it a 
matter of as nice calculation as an astronomical 
problem, as to where he would stand when his 
obligations were paid ; nor did his people calcu- 
late his expenses for him, but left him with a 
tolerable margin for the eye to rest on ; nor did 
they dole out his own in an eleemosynary way. 

If before they gave him plenty, they new bestowed 
on him too much. Those who are prodigal either 
of gifts or praises, will at some day desire to take 
back not only all they gave, but also a portion of , 
the poor beneficiary’s skin with it. Added to the 
substantial favors which crown substantial merit, 
he received the more gi'acious gifts which garland 
a specious talent. Bright eyes beamed upon him 
with admiration, kind extolling words came back 
to him, (for his house was situated where there 


ST. bardolph’s. 


27 


was a peculiarly fine echo,) tears gusht^ out 
under the wand of his inspiration. His table be 
tokened the advance of the floral season, and even 
the cold winter did not deny him some petted 
buds. It would have required a heart of stone to 
have been callous to those delicate attentions of 
Eve’s fair daughters. Endued by nature with the 
fine wings of a devotion which men want, forever 
out on some angelic ministry, they are in more 
senses than one, the ministers of ministers. But 
alas ! the breath of their flattery is too often a 
rarefied atmosphere, on which the weak vessels of 
pride are upbuoyed, only to collapse at the highest 
point, and to be precipitated headlong. We heard 
a statesman once say, “ the women adore talent 
but he might have added. Talent adores woman. 
Mr. Admuller however, remained extremely calm. 
He did not return thanks to the donors with 
enthusiasm, nor could it be alleged against him 
that he was ungrateful, or failed to make proper 
acknowledgments for that which he received. It 
would have required a microscope as yet to detect 
• a single flaw in his conduct, while with an almost , 
artistical exactness, he poised himself on that fine 
hair line which runs between a fault and a virtue, 
as for instance, between adulation and kindness, a 
too anxious suavity and an air of esteem. At this 


28 


THE EECTOE OF 


time both men and women thought that there was 
“ nobody like him.” But if they regarded him as an 
angel, he did not regard them as angels, nor likely 
to be such, unless they furbished up their devotion. 
To judge by the earnest, continual appeals which 
he made to them from Sunday to Sunday, on 
practical and vital matters, his expostulations by 
no means suited to lull the heart of pride, or open 
loop-holes to a sinner, the nicety and sharp severity 
with which he detected and laid bare the springs 
of human conduct, and brought the application 
home to the hearts of his present hearers, there 
might have been much room for improvement in 
that congregation. It is time that he dealt only 
with large and general principles ; he never came 
down to little things, or made himself the judge of 
petty individual acts of intrinsic indifference. He 
illustrated in its awful scope the principle^ but he 
did not apply the application. It belonged to his 
office and business to do this ; and the more plain 
he was, the more he was sure to be respected. 
But as to personal matters, he minded scrupulously 
his own business, and encouraged others to do 
the same. He shut his ears to report ; he was in 
a measure blind to individual frailties, and where 
aspersion was prevalent he remained dumb. He 
recoiled from spiteful and vile tongues as from a 


ST. BAEDOLPH^S. 


29 


sibilant serpent, — ^w^hilethe year flew round, distin- 
guished not so much for him hy the things which 
men talk of, as by great events in the Church’s 
Calendar. 


80 


THE KECTOK Of 


CHAPTEK III. 

THE PROGRESS OF HIS HISTORY MATRIMOH/. 

The estimation in wliicli the Eector was held, 
was in due course of time established on some- 
thing better than the excitement of novelty, 
the admiration of talents, or the charm of elo- 
quence. It was developed from a true discern- 
ment of his character. It was moreover an affec- 
tion which gradually springs from the relation of 
a clergyman to his people. Tlie associations 
which link him to them are the tenderest and most 
holy. Admitted to their most secret dwellings, 
he is connected with every occasion in their lives 
which is most melancholy or most joyful. It is 
his to he with them in their bitter affliction, to 
give the last tokens to the departing spirit as it 
wings its flight ; and there is not a fresh-made 


ST. BARDOLPll’s. 


31 


grave in tlie cliurcli-yard over wliicli there has not 
been formed a new link of attachment. Does he 
not bind the holy and indissoluble bands of matri- 
mony ? Does he not take into his arms, and re- 
ceive the child into the congregation of Christ’s 
flock ? He is present with them at the auspicious 
beginnings when all is hope, and to soothe, to 
allay, to comfort, when all seems verging upon 
despair ; and they cannot choose but love him, 
however unworthy he may be. But having re- 
presented the Hector to be well-established in the 
afiections of his people, it may be well on the 
threshold to say a few words of other things. 

The old church in which he officiated had been 
built before the Hevolution, and its architectural 
propriety would shock the ecclesiologist. It had 
a spire which was “ nothing to brag of,” sur- 
mounted by an outlandish weathercock ; its portal 
was inelegant, it had cumbrous galleries, a pulpit 
with a sounding board, high-backed pews, con- 
trasted with tlie lolling and lulling sofas which we 
find in churches now, and no particular proportions 
except those which had suggested themselves to 
the genius of a house-carpenter. On the reading- 
desk' lay one of those immense bibles, (to open 
which required the strength of a muscular arm,; 
presented long ago by the English “ Society for 
tl!e Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts.” 


32 


THE BECTOE OF 


St. Bardolpli’s remained in statu quo until a few 
years ago, when the Baptists, having confronted it 
with a Gothic, or rather Gothicised building, {tern- 
pora mutantuv^ on the opposite side of the street, 
and stared it out of countenance, the old St. Bar- 
dolph’s was destroyed and not one stone left upon 
another. But this sacrilege did not occur in Mr. 
Admuller’s time. Fire may burn, earthquake may 
destroy ; but the hand of man ought not, for slight 
causes, to demolish rudely a consecrated temple 
We would discard all superstition about the 
matter. If there is a sheer necessity, let it be 
done ; but consider the thick and clustered associ- 
ations of such a place. In those very seats our 
fathers sat ; in yonder corner used to be seen a 
venerable head, and we feel as if the spirit of 
tlie patriarch must still be present. Where 
yonder altar is, how often the baptismal seal 
was set; the very walls seem to hold within 
them the echoes of “ old men eloquent,” and the 
very place is fragrant. Around it the dead have 
gathered as if for safeguard, and just as all seem- 
ed sure, and all respect confirmed, a rude demol- 
ishing hand sweeps it away ; and there rises up 
instead of it a bedizzened temple, with its pretend- 
ed buttresses of wood, and with its plaster walls 
pencilled into pretended slabs of stone ; and its 
deceitful beams of pine, which would fiiin be oal^. 


ST. baudolph’s. - 33 

and tell a lie; and its gaudy windows, daubed 
with llasliy colors ; and not one trace, one relic, 
one memento in the whole spot to bring up the 
sacred past. Ye spirits of the dead ! it is enough 
to make you rise in protestation. Can devotion 
dwell where there is not a sentiment for things like 
these? What hands but the cruel would unlock 
the ivy from its much -loved tower, or hurl down 
those towers to deface and shiver the monuments 
of the dead? Let not a mere reverence for the 
past degenerate to a fault, but let it at least 
amount to a virtue. 

I for my part, bad as it was, think the style of 
the old St. Bardolph’s was far better than the 
modern. I cannot bear to see the sombre Gothic, 
or even the Doric, the Ionic and Corinthian, set 
forth in clap-boards on a scale not much grander 
than toy-houses which children build. If there is 
little space, less money, and no material but 
boards, put up a plain, rectangular building, and 
let the proportions be good. A little cathedral 
is a miserable affair. I remember very well how 
Mr. Admuller’s church looked. It was quaint 
and peculiar, and suited to be carved of wood. 

But to return from this digression ; — The Hector 
remained unmarried. Tliis formed the subject of 
a little gossip. Notwithstanding a multitude of 
fascinations, he seemed not more matrimonially- 
2 * 


34 


THK KECTOK OF 


inclined than when he first came to the parish. 
What could he his views on that subject? Did 
he mean to make the Church his wife ? ' Did ho 
think with St. Paul that he had better remain 
even as he was? Did he with godly, pleasant 
Mr. Herbert, think that a good wife is a blessing ? 
He never said what his opinions were, although 
several h>d endeavored to pump him. He ap- 
portioned his subdued attentions to the fair of his 
flock as impartially as one would cut a pie to give 
every body at the table an equal piece. Put 
what was he waiting for? If there were any 
charms of womanhood, they could be found with- 
in a cannon’s shot of St. Bardolph’s steeple. Did 
he want riche^ ? Miss Tubingen was rich. Miss 
Moriarty would make him a good wife. She was 
not handsome, but very clever. Much and jocu- 
larly was Mr. Admuller teazed. His shirts were 
out of order, the buttons off, and he was told that 
he wanted a wife. He parried all such remarks ; 
but sometimes when he was inordinately bothered 
by the mothers of his flock, there was something 
curious about his eye, and something quizzical 
about his silence. His looks seemed to say : “ My 
dear ladies, I cannot marry all your daughters, 
even if disposed. Unheard of and abominable 
would such a thing be in a minister of the Cross. 
Times have changed since Solomon^ Plurality 


.ST. BARDOLPU’S. 


35 


of wives is not allowable. Christians are not 
Turks, but we hope that Turks may become Chris- 
tians. Matrimony requires extreme consideration 
in all men, most of all with a clergyman. A min ■ 
ister’s wife should exceed the requisites whicii fit 
her for ordinary men. She should have much 
knowledge of the world to compensate for the want 
of it ill others, added to a sweetness of temper -which* 
is essential to so exalted a station ; and above all 
things a piety which is genuine and unobtrusive. 
She must be cautious in her zeal, and known by 
her walk^ rather than by her talk. She will not 
Imzz about the people to take her husband’s part, 
or even the part of the poor heathen ; nor rattle 
with a voluble tongue about deep theories of 
which she in reality knows nothing ; nor venture 
to combat any set of opinions which are making 
noise in the world. She must leave schools of 
theology to her husband, trusting to him that he 
will pick out the best school. She must not be 
importunate in pressing even a good cause, much 
less that which to the judicious might appear 
Quixotic. Isay even in the appeals of an im- 
perative charity, she will not force the reluctant 
to yield out of politeness to the request of a lady. 
Indeed though she should do all things which 
fit her for her station, and leave nothing un- 
done, she will be misunderstood by some, and 


36 


THE RECTOR OF 


misrepresented Dy many ; and to provide against 
this, she must have in addition, an angelic 
patience, meekness, and forgiveness, so that the 
keener are the cuts, her forbearance will amount 
almost to insensibility. Such a woman is not to 
be taken from a crowd at random, nor snatched 
suddenly to the altar. But — it is Friday morn- 
ing, the bell rings ; shall we not be too late for 
morning service 2” 


ST. bakdolph’s. 


37 


CHAPTER lY. 

A SHORT EPISODE IN THE LIFE OF THE RECTOR. 

To speak the truth, the Rector had not vowed 
himself to perpetual celibacy. Some men of the 
finest sensibilities, who keep their counsel to 
themselves, never marry; but the doctrine, or 
idea of any obligation on the clergy in this re- 
spect, at the time of Mr. Admuller’s ministry, had 
not been wafted like a stray seed into the en- 
closures of our Church. He was not in any par- 
ticular haste ; he was willing to remain even as 
he was, if expediency should require ; but he de- 
signed to marry, if circumstances, that is to say, 
God, should bring in his path the woman whom 
he could love, honor, and respect. In fact, he 
considered marriage, whether among the clergy 
or laity, as the only true life. 


38 


THE RECTOR OP 


Tliere was • one young woman in the parish 
whom the congregation had never dreamed of as 
a wife for the Rector, although they talked of 
many. Miss Tubingen was rich and prominent, 
Miss Mori arty was fashionable and elegant; thin 
in form it is true, and contracted, and consump- 
tive ; but she bowed as she entered a room with a 
grace which was deemed sufficient to make her a 
fitting candidate. There was, moreover, an ec- 
centric spinster in the j^arish who made a dead 
set at him, and worried him almost out of his 
life ; although he bore it like a Christian and a 
man. She waylaid him at the church-yard gates, 
and met him continually at the chancel door, and 
the reason was, that he had once gone to see her 
on a visit of consolation, and she entirely mistook 
his motives. But nobody ever thought of her, for 
she was considerably far down in the vale, and 
the susceptibility of her heart made her a stand- 
ing topic of unkind merriment. Neither had any 
thought of little Miss Clemanthe, for she was the 
child of a poor widow, and so modest and re- 
tiring, that she neither sought nor obtained no- 
tice. She glided sylph-like, on a Sunday, among 
the more gaudily-plumed and attired damsels, 
themselves the flowers of the Westchester families ; 
but she was like an undiscovered flower which 
blooms without a name. She was a sincerely de- 


ST. BARDOLPn’s. 


39 


vr.nt and constant worshipper* at St. Bardolph’s, 
and lier mother made her child her deputy, to 
convey the widow’s mite, for she was infirm. Mr. 
Admuller could not help admiring a demeanor so 
pious, while her very unobtrusiveness obtruded 
itself upon his notice ; nor had he failed in atten- 
tion to her aged parent, for he was assiduous 
among the poor with those kind words which, like 
Jesus’ miracles, can make the lame to leap. It 
w'as a long period before the Hector remarked 
anything particular in her expression which de- 
noted a regard for himself, although he had some- 
times seen her attention earnestly fixed upon him 
during his discourse, the sudden suffusion of her 
cheeks, and the crystalline humor which was let 
down like a transparent curtain over her beautiful 
eyes. Indeed, she was waxing very pale, and it 
is well that none noticed her, for a too searching 
gaze might have detected the agony of hopeless 
lov’e. 

]\rr. Admuller had never advanced one step 
toward her as a suitor, but he had made up his 
mind to address her, when he was called away 
suddenly on a long journey. He was absent for 
three months. On his return, the coach breaking 
down late on a Saturday night, he was forced to 
ride hard on Sunday morning in order to reach 
his ]mrish, wdiere he was expected. In fact the 


40 


THE EECTOR OF 


people were all seated, and the bell had ceased to 
toll. He had barely time to snatch a sermon frcm 
his portmanteau and hurry to the Church. Al- 
most as many had come out on that occasion as 
on the arrival of Sir John Staples. Yery glad 
were they again to see the Rector, and he recog- 
nized many well-known faces turned toward him 
with an expression of pleasure. But Miss Cle- 
manthe’s seat was vacant. She had been so con- 
stant in her attendance at church that the absence 
of the poor and humble girl made indeed a blank. 
What had become of her ? Was she ill ? Or was 
she in attendance upon her infirm mother ? Mr 
Admuller was afraid to inquire. Looking out of the 
window, when he went to robe himself with gown 
and cassock, before sermon, he saw for the first 
time, a fresh-made grave. The grass had not yet 
grown over it. The truth flashed upon him, but 
controlling himself in a moment, he went out and 
delivered his discourse as though he had no such 
suspicion. After service the parishioners flocked 
around the Rector, and he asked the first whom 
he met, “Is Miss Clemanthe dead?” and he said, 
“She is dead !” She was, indeed, not only dead, 
but forgotten by many, if it be possible to forget 
those whom one has never known. Her place 
was vacant in those hallowed courts to which her 
affections had climg, like the tendrils of the ivy 


ST. bardolph’s. 


41 


wliich clasped the porch. Mr. Adnmller waited 
until the last sound of the carriages had died 
away, when he went and stood by her grave. 
Alas ! if he had been present perhaps she had not 
pined ! Tlien, he thought, there would have been 
one true heart more on earth, but one angel less 
in heaven. It would have consoled him to have 
soothed the last pangs of the bosom which now 
lay cold beneath him ; but could he have com- 
mitted these ashes to ashes, and this dust to dust ? 
Could he have kept the tears back, with powerful 
control within the overbrimming fountain ? Could 
he have made the voice falter less ? He felt that 
he could not have done it. And Mr. Admuller 
wept upon Miss Clemanthe’s grave. 


42 


THE KECTOE OF 


CHAPTER Y. 

OONTIOTANCE OF THE SAME. 

JS'o change could be perceived in his conduct; 
to indicate that his feelings had been coucii^ci, 
although he would sometimes allude with regard 
to his departed parishioner. How meek and lui- 
exceptionable was her conduct, how unfailing her 
attendance ! “ Yes,” they would reply, “she was 

a very good girl but the emphasis on “ good ” 
was not meant to convey an emphatic idea of 
goodness, but to denote a sentence incomplete, 
and should have been followed by the word 
“ but,” when arrested by an ominous pause. 

At last, by the casual surmise of some unpar- 
alyzed tongue-wagging gossip, the rumor went 
wafting about the parish like thistle-do-wn, that 
Miss Clemaiithe and the Rev. Mr. .Admuller had 


ST. bardolph’s. 


43 


been engaged. Some ladies boldly contradicted 
it, and said that they took it upon them to say, 
from what they knew of the Rector, that there 
was no truth in it. It was impossible that one of 
his tastes could take up with one so poor and low 
down in the scale of society as Miss Clemanthe. 
She was a “ good girl ” in her way. Another 
said, “ I for my part believe it. Did you not see 
him always glancing during service in that 
direction?” Another sneered and remarked, “I 
am indeed soi’ry that the poor girl is dead ; but if 
there is truth in the rumor, perhaps it is better for 
them both. Good bye ; don’t forget, dear, that 
our Dorcas Association meets to night at Mrs. 
Chilchilly’s. It is for the African Mission.” A 
few however, felt very sorry for him, and they 
said “ it would kill him — he would never get over 
it — they were sure he w'ould not.” But Mr. Ad- 
muller did get over it. Ills feelings did not par- 
take of romance so much as to find it a luxury to 
die on a given account, stage-fashion, that all so- 
ciety might be pointing at the arrow which was 
sticking in his side and gradually killing him. 
It is true that he was very much depressed ; in- 
deed he found it hard to assume cheerfulness, but 
he attended to his duties more regularly than ever, 
and did not even walk to the grave of Miss Cle- 
manthe. He could see it from the windows 


44 


THE RECTOR OF 


of his vestrj-room, and the sight gave a solemner 
tinge to his discourse when he ascended the pulpit. 
Time renovates, as well as destroys, and heads 
which are beaten down by the storm are lifted up 
in the sunshine. Tlie Eector sought out the be- 
reaved mother, and found his own consolation in 
consoling. Aged and a cripple, she bore her grief 
with fortitude, poring over the leaves of the word 
of God. God had taken her all, but now God 
Himself had become to her all in all. Tliankful 
was she when her child was born into the world, 
but she had now given Jier up to God, and even 
in this sense she found that “ it is more blessed to 
give than to receive.” Mr. Admuller had the like 
feeling ; but to his life’s end he never forgot his 
fair parishioner. The page of his written ser- 
mons, his books of recondite theology, bear wit 
ness to this day to the copious tears once shed 
upon them by the Rector of St. Bardolph’s. 


AT. RAliDOLPu’s. 


45 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE RECTOR TAKES A VERY IMPORTANT STEP, ANE 1/3 
EFFECT ON HIS MINISTRY. 

Several years had passed away. It was a 
summer morning when Mr. -Admuller, who had 
been absent for some days on a visit to a neigh- 
boring village, returned. A neat carriage was 
seen to arrive at the door of his house ; he alighted, 
and offering his hand, there leaped out, like a flash 
of lightning, with agile grace, Mrs. AdmuUer. It 
w^as a sudden. vision, which only met the eyes of 
one who happened to be a passer-by, but the news 
was circulated through the community wdth the 
instaneity of an electric shock. If a thunderbolt 
had passed over the place, and knocked down 
every chimney in the way, the surprise could not 
liave been greater. Without communicating his 


46 


THE KECTOE OF 


intentions to any, he had been guilty of the 
stupendous impropriety of going out of the parish, 
and marrying a wife. When tlie ladies came 
to call on Mrs. A. as they did shortly, it was 
with an equivocal jocularity that they took him 
to task for his precipitate^ action. “ Really, 
Mr. A. you were veiy sly about it.” “We do 
think that you might have given us a little hint of 
your intentions.” “ Mrs. Admuller, your husband 
has not treated us exactly right in this matter.” 
And Mrs. A. smiled pleasantly by way of re- 
joinder ; for the remark was only jocular — only 
jocular. The honey-moon passed away as ail 
honey-moons, delightfully. But the even tenor of 
the Rector’s life was more interrupted than usual 
by festivity, for Westchester was fifty years a^^o 
it is now, a land flowing with milk and honey, the 
seat of much elegance and of a large and liberal 
hospitality. What I have already said of the 
parishioners of M , is not in any spirit of con- 

tempt ; for the same feelings, the same faults in 
conduct will be found in nearly every parish over 
the whole country, unless there be some churches 
not belying their names, called All-Saints, and 
All-Angels. But because these frailties exist 
everywhere it is w'ell to depict them, in hopes 
that they may be corrected somewhere. Kor is it 
designed to represent the Rector without any. 


ST. BAEDOLPU’S. 


47 


shading of character or without faults. At any 
rate soon after his marriage the people began to 
find them out ; ' for they did exist. He had 
preached so many “ crack sermons” within the 
last few years, and got so much praise for them, 
that it is a wonder he had not become himself 
cracked. This was the fault of the ladies, young, 
middle-aged, and old. They have and justly toe, 
the reputation of “spoiling ministers.” Fair beings I 
with bosoms full of sympathy, the first source of 
temptation, yet the first to repair the damage of 
the fall ; without whom all religion is dead, and to 
cherish whom is a part of religion itself ; surround- 
ed by a halo — when you flutter gauze-like about 
the clergyman, a half a dozen of you at a time, 
investing the whole citadel where his vanity 
dwells, twirling your fans and shaking your am- 
brosial curls, he rushes infatuate into the idolatrous 
fire, to scorch up the wings of his true devotion, 
and lamentably to illustrate that he is, like other 
men, a mere worm of the dust. 

The Hector began to have a few troubles when 
his married life commenced — who does not? The 
first years of his ministry had been one picture of 
peace imbued with rosy light, darkened only by 
the passing cloud which rested awhile over the 
grave of Miss Clemanthe. “ It is good to be 
afflicted.” Sunshine and shadow form the com- 


48 


THE RECTOR OF 


position of the good man’s life. There is nt mo 
notony so painful as the incessant down-pouring of 
the floods of light. We ought rather to pray for 
the alternations of the seasons ; for the day of 
prosperity and for the quiet of tlie night watches, 
when we may fold our arms and yield to meditation 
and repose; for the spring-time of hope, when we 
may look forward trustingly ; and for the summer 
when we may apply ourselves to work while the 
day lasts; for the autumn, triumphant with fruits 
and vintage, and in the very symptoms of decay, 
that last of all, we may be prepared to welcome 
the winter of old age and death, and be gathered 
in ourselves like sheaves fully ripe. 

The troubles of the Rector however, did not as 
yet amount to anything worth speaking of. We 
shall come to that by-and-b}', when he became 
“superannuated.” Ills wife soon came in for a 
share of sharp criticism ; the humbler classes, who 
composed two-thirds of the congregation com- 
plaining that her air was haughty, her head 
carried too high, and that she was dressed in silks. 
How unkind and unreflecting of them ! — The lady 
was not haughty, she was only high-bred; and as 
to her head, she carried it just as nature poised it, 
on a most beautiful, commanding form ; and as to 
silks, they are the most economical of all dresses 
These reports, as they were twittered with a 


ST BAKDOLPHS. 


•it 

swallow-like sharpness into their ears, by the bird 
of gossip who flitted by their door, worried poor 
Mr. Adnmller more than his wife ; and however 
much they might afiect the minds of a few, he was 
still able to counteract them by the potent influence 
of a “ crack sermon” — thanks to Sir John Staples ! 
If his troubles began with his marriage, so did 
his happiness too. This is the experience of all 
men who marry, especially of the clergy. Listen 
to what the aged Jeremy Bartoldus, some two 
hundred 3*ears ago curate of All-Willows Parish, 
Hentz-IIinckly, Gilliganshii^, England, says. This 
is from his diary, bequeathed to us in a trunk of 
old books: — “From y® time that I did enter into 
y* bonds of holy wedlock, much thanksgiving due 
from me to God, and from henceforth y® less 
praises received from men. For my cleare wife, 
(now with God,) having in her some gentlu blood 
(no fault of hers,) the}' did straight begin to pick 
at me, and AVill, y® tinker, say I not dine with 
him. I forthwith dine with him, and then in}* 
wdfe, so sweet and noble in her conduct, that they 
did not feel at ease ; so tl:ey did forth witlr go 
about to make my place vacate, poking at mo as 
one would poke at a bear thro’ y® bars, if so be 
they might have one below y® level of th.emselves, 
so they feel more at their ease, in which they not 
succeed. Now I being a poor curate with family 
3 


50 


THE EECTOE OF 


y* natural fierceness 'boiTi with me nearly all gone 
by y® necessity of poverty, and y® rest, if any 
remained, thank God, kept down by y® principles 
of Clirist, so that I succomb readily to insult, and 
y® insinuation of unfeeling men, and find my 
account thereby. For there be some men ren- 
dered truculent and insolent by accidental riches, 
snen of no education, no refinement, howbeit, will 
clap their vulgar hoofs on y® heads of such as 
I, and they will spoon out their allowances so as to 
make me acknowledge y® same. These things bo 
thorns in y® flesh, which I pray God may not 
inordinately vex or worry me, for what be such to 
y® affections of the major part of my people, who 
would not have a hair of my head harmed. 
Should not a parish minister be humble ?” 

Tims far the aged Jeremy Bartoldus. But was 
the minister’s wife all which he had imagined 
as essential to make him happy? She was. Yet 
he had not sought her among thousands, but had 
found her as accident, that is to say God, some- 
times casts gems in our way. 

To the charms of youth and beauty, she addco 
energy of character, and strength of intellect. 
She did not live only in heaven, forgetting the 
actual duties of the present sphere, although she 
seemed like an angel who had newly come upon 
the earth. She scattered roses in the pathway of 


rr. xAitiJCLPH’a. 


n 


those who had otherwise been acquainted only 
with thorns. Her charities, whicli diverged on all 
sides, like rays from a focus, began at home, where 
she staid much, not gadding about to be the Lady 
Patroness of nonsensical schemes, and annoy those 
who had their hands full, but she exerted herself 
to make her husband happy, gilding a career so 
auspicious in its beginning, and whose ending had 
been less painful had she lived to smooth the pil- 
low of his distress. 


THE KEOTOJa OF 


&2 


CnAPTEJR Til. 

I ROSSES (not wooden) AN ENERGETIC WOMAN NO 

ISMS — HOW MR. ADMULLER RECEIVED AN INVITA- 
TION TO A NEW PARISH, AND THE DISPOSITION WHICH 
HE MADE OF IT. 

Years glided on, marted only by tlie ordinary 
scenes wliich vary the life of a country Rector, 
during which the blessings heaped upon him far 
outnumbered the ills which he was heir to. Ilis 
crosses and chastisements for the most part petty, 
were those which each one is apt to magnify in 
his own case, and which all the clergy share alik?. 
They were no more than those which might be 
deemed necessary to give to patience its perfect 
work. If ill-natured remarks were sometimes 
made by careless talkers, who had no conception 
of the mischief which they wrought, and were sedu- 


ST. bardolph’s. 


63 


loBsly carried to his ears by good-natured persons, 
he passed them by in silence. If ill-founded re- 
ports, of a petty kind, gotjnto circulation, he was 
above contradicting them ; and if any took a 
pique against him from accidental causes, he 
treated them as if unconscious of it, and permitted 
the evil to work its own cure. He brushed away 
these little cobwebs from his face and walked on. 
For those who struggle with the like annoyances 
belittle themselves to fly-like dimensions, so that 
th ey are apt to be caught in such net-work, to be 
bound hand and foot, and stung. The flrst trouble 
which he had was from an evangelical woman. 
This is not said in a sneering spirit, for evangeli- 
cal women, and men too, are the very ones to do 
good in the Church, and in the world. An evan- 
gelical person is one who illustrates by his out- 
ward act the principles of the Gospel of Christ ; 
not one who claims for himself exclusively their 
inward spirit. By this very arrogance is violated 
that charity which is the essence of the true faith. 
Cool disputation of theories ever tends to good 
with those who have the ability to argue, and for 
those who have the disposition to learn ; and when 
charity is wanting on either part, the evangelical 
spirit goes with it. The first question which Mrs. 
Yosselingen asked when Mr. Admuller came into 
the parish, (and she buzzed about with the in- 


54 : 


THE EECTOR OF 


clnstiy of a bee among clover) was, “ Is lie evan- 
gelical?” — ^Tliis slie should have regarded as al- 
ready decided by those more capable of judging 
than herself ; but many simple j^eople did not 
know what the term implied, and Mrs. Vossel- 
ingen was therefore compelled to set herself up as 
a teacher to explain it, and after Mr. Admuller 
had assumed his place, she was obliged to set her 
self up as a judge to decide upon him, as well as 
to proclaim such decision. What she .referred to 
was to certain technical interpretations, ver}’’ im- 
portant it is true, but of which, in pr<->pcrt-on as 
she was not deeply learned, she could rattle .more 
volubly. 

Now, this worthy lady, who was zealous over- 
much, was the patroness of so many little in 
dependent schemes, unrivalled since the days of 
Don Quixote, that Mr. Admuller in his walks 
through the parish, was forced in a quiet manner 
just to pinch some of them in the germ or snap 
their heads off ; and it was in the first outcry, 
tears, and pitiful lamentations over one of these 
precious buds of promise, that he was obliged to 
meet this dowager in a sort of tug of war. For she 
wished to establish a Theological Seminary among 
the Choctaw or Chickasaw Indians, and had given 
the first contribution for a “ Yosselingen Scholar- 
ship.” As one who finds his tower tumbled into 


ST. bardolph’s. 


65 


his gai'den by an earthquake, and all his plants 
crushed, weeps over the ruins, so did the agitated 
lady wring her hands over the blighted prospects 
of the Choctaws, with whose geographical posi- 
tion she was not well acquainted, and her tears 
were accompanied, by a sharp, hail-like protest. 
Tiic “ cloud-capped towers ” of the College never 
rose except in imagination. Like the poor In- 
dians, they faded awajq these latter being j)er- 
suaded by the gentle force of our Government, to 
more romantic hunting-grounds beyond the Great 
Jliv'er. Nevertheless, . Mr. Admuller kindly ap- 
preciated the lady’s motives, though he was un- 
able to approve her design. And far be it from 
me to cast ridicule on her, as she has left after 
her in the good which she actually did, “ a monu- 
ment more durable than brass.” But she was not 
pleased with the conduct of Mr. Admuller, and it 
only confirmed her in her opinion that he was not 
what she regarded an evangelical man. Far be 
it from me also to cast any sneer upon female zeal 
and activity in good works. For every parish 
minister must bear this testimony to the fair of his 
flock, that in them resi^le the truest and warmest, 
and most unobtrusive piety, the most consistent 
zeal, the greatest charity. No good work could 
be sustained without them, and they are the very 
life-blood of the parish. It is better to have a 


56 


THE RECTOR OF 


mistaken zeal than none at all, and Mrs. Yossel- 
ingen erred through temperament. She is a type 
of a few, and we hope not the representative of 
many. She also did not exactly like Mrs. Ad- 
muller, because the latter provided sponge-cake 
and green tea at the meetings of the Dorcas As- 
sociation. Not that all the ladies did not like 
green tea, for they fairly chirped over it, like 
grasshoppers over dew ; but some of the poorer 
were not able to provide it in turn, except an in- 
ferior kind of Boliea, which was no recompense 
for best Hyson, and so held themselves excluded 
from the meetings. Mrs. Admuller would have 
yielded this point, had she known the cause of the 
difficulty, but it only reached her in indistinct 
murmurs, and it is merely mentioned to show 
what trifling and petty policies prevail among 
those who should be influenced by higher things. 
It had been better that the “good creature 
called “ tea ” had never grown ; better that the 
fiteam of it should occasion the explosion of all the 
tea-kettles in Christendom, than that its exhilara- 
tion should cause unpleasant feelings in Christian 
communities. It was overturns containing S that 
the subject was first broached that Mrs. Admuller 
wore too handsome a shawl for the wife of a min- 
ister, although she was one of those whose adoni 
mg was not the “outward adorning of plaiting 


I 


ST. BARDOLPn’s. 


57 


the hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on 
of apparel,” hut “ the ornament of a meek and 
quiet spirit, which is, in the sight of God, of great 
price.” 

“ It is well,” say some, “ that ism was not 

christened in your Hector of St. Bardolph’s 
day !” — and this will entice and inveigle us into 
a few lateral and incidental remarks on that tick- 
lish topic, but they will be of such a nature as to 
meet the views of all “parties,” if there must be 
^parties in the Churcli of God. But we are con- 
fident that he would have escaped free from any 

ism ever broached by any atic. Had 

that controversy begun in Mr. Admuller’s time, 
we think that his conduct would have been mark- 
ed by a moderation and judgment which w’ould 
never have weakened his influence one jot in the 
opinion of good men. As ii- young man, while he 
would have been alive to the question at issue, 
and considered it worthy of his profound study, 
he would liave been shrewd and careful in re- 
spect to his action, until it was decided by older 
heads, and in a Catholic manner. lie never 
would have harangued boisterously about Catho- 
lic principles, while by attempting to lead off, and 
to sneer contemptuously at those of his elders who 
thought differently, he violated the modesty, obe- 
dience, and subordination, which are at the base 
3 * 


58 


THE RECTOR OF 


of the Catholic system. For verily there are some 
yoHths who had better tarry at Jericho until tlieir 
beards are growm. Ardent and hot-headed, and 
endowed tolerably with the gift of speech, they 
talk glibly about submission to the Fathers, wdiile 
for themselves they acknowledge no authority 
superior to their own judgment, and are resolved 
to act as they like. Thus they destroy, in the 
germ, the seeds of many good things which would 
have sprung up, and been duly weeded, and 
finally reaped with care by men of more age, 
judgment, and muscle; just as the corn which 
would in due time have been provided for the 
crib, is prematurely trampled down by a herd of 
asses. While organs, crosses. Gothic aisles, and 
painted windows, and kindred things, would of 
themselves excite no undue horror, the theologi- 
cal tyro, Qx jparvenu^ hi his ecstacy over his amaz- 
ing discoveries, absolutely discourses of these 
things as if they w’ere “ the chief end of man.” 
lie blows out the candles which he w'ould kindle 
on the altar, and feeds his own pride in the very 
attitude of genuflexion. He does not sv'ay his 
crook with the meekness of a “ good shepherd,” at- 
tempting gently to guide his^ flock ; but he breaks 
it over his knee, and shortens it into a mere 
stick to drive them whither he wmuld. But no 
shepherd can drive the meekest sheep which ever 


ST. BARDOLPn’s. 


69 


f6d on Clover If the rams of the flock tnm 
npon him with their battering apparatus, he is 
knocked down, rushed over, and trampled to 
death. Tlien, he finds too late, that the strength 
is ill-spent which is spent for nought, and, a spec- 
tacle of weakness, has only time to say something 
in his last struggles about “a perverse gene- - 
ration.” 

Mr. Admuller, as a young man, would have 
left disputed points to be adjusted by degrees by 
the more experienced, while he still continued to 
busy himself about practical matters, convinced 
that a contrary course among the junior clergy 
would only serve to engender vanity, imperti- 
nence, arrogance, and spiritual pride. That he 
would have desired to carry out the full meaning, 
intent, and spirit of the Prayer Book, there can 
be no question. Had he been of the number of 
those opposed to the slightest change in external 
rites and usages as administered now, we will 
also attempt to depict what would have been his 
conduct. He would not, in the question at issue, 
have suffered his prejudice to forestall his judg- 
ment. He would have considered every point 
separately before he pronounced sweepingly upon 
all ; and he would hare exercised the same pru- 
dence in promulgating his opinion. Whatever it 
was, he would not have called his opponents, so 


60 


THE RECTOR OF 


mucli older than himself, by hard names, bnt 
would have given them credit for all sincerity ; 
nor would he have alluded to any iteSy any isms^ 
or any aticTcs. 

But whatever topics agitated his parish at the 
time, they were all absorbed in a subject of which 
I shall now speak. 

Mr. Admuller suddenly received a call to a 
large church in the city of New York. Some de- 
putations from it, who had heard him, coincided 
with the opinion of Sir John Staples, and said 
that his light ought not to be hid under a bushel. 
This intelligence produced a great excitement 
among _the parishioners of St. Bardolph’s. They 
were attached to the Hector, and he to them, and 
they did not think that he had excuse to justify 
him in dissolving the connection. At that time 
the city of New York was not one-twelfth its pre- 
sent size, but it was considered comparatively a 
great Capital, and some, we regret to say it, even 
then, looked with no small jealousy and disgust 
on the city Hectors, and were the authors of divers 
ill-natured remarks on the style in which they 
lived, and the sumptuous manner in which they 
were fed. But the city Hectors were not so much 
to^lame in growing fat, for the New York mar- 
kets have been always good. Tlie most of them 
used the world as not abusing it, and the differ- 


UT. bakdolph's. 


61 


ence of their jtyle arose out of necessity from the 
difference of their relations. It argued not so 
much their own extravagance as the increase of 
the demands on them, and the generosity of their 
parishioners, and it was somewhat magnified by 
envy. For most of those whose censures were 
severest, would have been willing to occupy the 
same positions without scruple, and would have 
thought that they did God service. Mr. Admul- 
ler never made such remarke^ and never desired 
those fat livings ; and afte: a careful conside^-a- 
tion, he coincided with the views of his parish- 
ioners, and declined the offer. As far as human 
judgment can go, as matters afterwards turned 
out, it is a pity that he did so, but he acted ac- 
coiding to princii^les which were noble and Chris- 
tian, and he resolved, in the warmth of his affec- 
tion, that the church-going bell whose sound had 
iirvited him so often to the Church’s prayers, 
should toll the last rc(iuiem at his funeral. 


62 


THE KlCn'i'OR OF 


CHAPTEH VIII. 

CERTAIN IMPORTANT CU.1.NGES OCCUR IN THE PARISH 

THE DEATH OF ZIR. VAN SITIART AND OF MRS. VQS- 
SELINGEN. 

Mr. Van Sittart died suddenly. This gentle- 
man had been a good friend to the Pc^.tor, and 
for many years church- warden. He was a sincere 
churchman, a steady church-goer. ITe was al- 
ways ready upon any appeal of charity — always 
represented the parish in convention. He was a 
good husband, a kind father, an excellent neigh- 
bor. More than this he was of a good stock, de- 
scended from one of those families whose history is 
connected with the growth of the commonwealth, 
and which form a part of the legitimate aristocracy 
of the country, who, to largeness of estate, add 
the liberal education and feelings of true gentle- 
men. To Mr. Admuller, the affliction was poig- 


ST. bardoi.ph’s. 


63 


nant as a mutual esteem liad been growing be- 
tween them for many years. lie had often par- 
ticipated at liis board, which w'as most hospitable 
and cheerful ; and when, as the custom of the 
country is, it fell to his lot to preach the “ funeral 
sermon,” lie paid as he could in sincerity, a glow- 
ing tribute to his worth, and committed his dust 
to tlie earth, not witliout mingling his own tears 
with those of the kinsmen. This was the first 
great change which had occurred in the parish 
since his arrival, and it seemed for a while in that 
small community to alter the spirit of the entire 
scene. The vacancy was most painful. That one 
seat in the pew without its occupant, whose manly 
form, as he walked up tlie aisles, had been so long 
an object of admiration to church goers, appeared 
to make the whole church empty. His responses 
were wanting ; and their distinctness was ill-sup- 
ported by the feeble blending of voices which re- 
mained. But this kind of despondency soon 
wears away, as it should, especially with Chris- 
tians, from a feeling and persuasion that the spi 
rits of the dead are still with us. Though we 
gaze upon the familiar faces no more, and the 
places which once knew them, know them no 
more for ever, their memory and example live. 
Mr. Van Sittart’s place in his pew was supplied 
by a tall and manly son, who inherited his father’s 


01 


THE KECTUK OF 


virtues, and liis faults. As the portrait of the 
sire was seen upon the parlor walls, painted by 
the inimitable hand of Stuart, with the smile 
upon his lips, and the serious wrinkle upon his 
brow, so tlie son already, though in a better man 
ner, represented him ; and this was a great com- 
fort to the parish, especially to Mr. Admuller. 

But other losses soon ensued, leaving those 
great blanks, so hard to be supplied ; for we are 
aj)t to feel, and there seems to be truth in the sup- 
position, that the succeeding generations are in- 
ferior. 

“ .^tas Pareutum pejor avis tulit 
Nos nequiores mox daturos 
Progeuiem vitiosiorem.” 

Mrs. Yosselingcn was smitten with apoplexy, 
being a large woman. Notwithstanding her ex- 
pressed opinions with regard to the Bector, in 
her secret heart she had a great esteem for him 
In proof of this it may be mentioned that she left 
a request that none but he should commit her 
body to tlie grave ; and she named him one of her 
executors in trust of various moneys, wdiich she 
had assigned to charities in which she was interest- 
ed. Tlieir objects, we are delighted to say, were 
all useful, and the effect of her charity is still felt, 
although not a single cent was devoted to the 
“ Vosselingen Scholarship.” 


«’i'. HAKliOLl'U’s. 


r»h 


CFAPTEll IX. 

SK'lTIxNa x^OUTll OEBTAIN CII AKACTERISTICS OF THE NEW 
RECTOR, AND THAT A CLEROYADVN OUGHT TO BE IN A 

LIMITED SENSE A MAN OF THE WORLD HOW STRIFE 

IN PARISHES ARISES FROM MISAPPREHENSICN. 

At the time of Mr. Admuller’s early ministry, as 
we have intimated, there were no remarkable dis- 
sensions on points of Church doctrine or Divinity. 
These questions .were agitated afterward. All 
classes had been recently so much engrossed in 
the stirring events of the Revolution, and were 
still so much occupied in the conflicting politics 
which arise from setting into play the machinery 
of a new government, that they thought little of 
religion, except as Numa Pompilius did. that a 
decent respect for it is essential to the well-being 
of a State. In this light politicians have regard- 


THE EECTOR OF 


ed it in all ages. On this account our State goy- 
ernors issue their occasirnal “ Proclamations ” for 
fasts or Thanksgiving, with some reverential men- 
tion of a Supreme Governor, and without the least 
allusion to the name of Jesus Christ. Their man- 
ifestos would suit the times of Julius Caesar as 
well as of his Excellency Millard Filmore, at this 
present writing President of the United States. 
This pre-occupation of the mind to the exclusion 
of religious feeling is very natural, when matters 
of pressing imporcance are m promptu. We lose 
sight of the actuality of tlic future, in the reality 
of the present. Besides this, to use a cant phrase, 
it is hard to have “a realizing sense,” that the 
things which are seen are temporal, hut the things 
which are unseen are eternal.” Tlie Church of 
England, which had first been planted here, a 
small seed, and affectionately nurtured by the 
Venerable Society in the mother country, was too 
much surrounded by opposing powers to be di- 
vided against herself. She stood together on a 
few strong distinctive principles, and not until the 
force of these had gained her power and extension, _ 
were they ever drawn in question. 

Many men have many minds. Alas ! that our 
Church should experience the evils of theologicum 
odium^ which is the bitterest of all rancor, be- 
cause the combatants, knowing themselves to be 


8T. BAUDOLPh’s. 


67 


guil*;y of a bad sj)irit, wax the more desperate, 
and nse tlie weapons of sacrilege on the ground 
which is holj. If they considered tins, they would 
be apt to sliift the scone of their warfare, and 
not occupy the area bounded by consecrated 
•.vails ; nor a portion of sacj od time, limited by pray- 
ers at one end and Ghnna in JExcelsis at the other. 
Oh ! we have sometimes trembled, lest the monu- 
ments on the dumb walls should speak out, not to 
commemorate the dead but to reprove the living; 
lest the revolutionary v.'ardeiis should walk out of 
tlieir graves to confront the gaunt forms of the 
white-throated clergy who stalk through the aisles, 
and the laic crowd bustling and busy as on the 
Merchants’ Exchange. Perhaps the white inno- 
cence of the surplice, if worn in these Conven- 
tions, would constrain to a corresponding inno- 
cence of demeanor ; or even the black gown be 
the cause of a more scholastic dignity. For it is 
mortifying to see them hammered into their 
places as if they were at an auction sale, or im- 
periously called to order, and commanded to sit 
down, as if they were in a political bear-garden. 
When at last crouched down, instead of keeping 
still, they clamorously demand the floor as a mat- 
ter of right, till a strong police becomes essential, 
as in any theatre. Then to come there without 
even having looked into a book of logic, to afflict 


68 


THE KECTOK OF 


*;ho ears witli bad rhetoric, undignified phrases, 
and a Boanerges style of speaking ; taking a long 
time to come to the point, and immediately di- 
verging from it ; thinking that their speeches 
“are immortal, when they are only eternal;’’ 
specfdjes indeed, which are like an hour-glass 
narrowest in the m.iddle, only the sands don’t run 
out so soon ;• — •admonished of their length merely 
by the frantic cry of “ Question, question,” voci- 
ferated from all parts of tlie house ; or the solemn ' 
tolling of the hours from St. John’s steeple, mak- 
ing them mindful that the record of another hour 
is ready for the Archangel’s pen, and then undu- 
iating, blending, and dying away with the hum of 
a great city. Sometimes wandering a long time 
from the point they get inextricably snarled, and 
in some unknown region ; when with blank faces 
they begin to question themselves where they are, 
until the loftier spirits must needs tell them, or 
take a regular observation by the light of reason 
which remains in the middle of that roaring sea 
of words — 'rroXv((>Xoia^oLo daXaaarjg — to find out in 
what latitude and longitude they are. But this 
is nothing to the bad temper, and for the time 
being, almost diabolical feeling, which prevails 
with a few. You may see one crouched in a corner, 
and peering over the pew, his eyes twinkling 
with animosity, his whole countenance suffused 


ST. BAKDOI.l’U’s. 


69 


witli bile as yellow as tlie Ganges, watcliiiig tlie 
adversary as a cat a mouse, and convulsively 
clutcliing tlie pew-door that lie may rise at the 
proper moment, with a galvanic energy of spring, 
lost some one else should have the honor to tear 
his eyes out; while the women in the galleries 
like angels out of heaven, swaying their wing- 
like fans, look down in perfect astonishment ; and 
representatives from witliout, “ with a writer’s 
ink-horn by their sides,” sit ready to herald fortli 
the doings to a sneering world. 

“ Tantaine animis coelestibus ira3 ?” 

Ought such dispositions to be found in any con - 
clave informed by the Spirit of Christ? Honey 
and oil should their words be ; not like ragiri-^ 
c^-rf, or acrid vinegar. 

But disputes in the Church at large, or among 
parishes, often arise from the fact that the parties 
do not understand each other. Until therefore 
they come to this knowledge, they should be slow 
to wrath, swift to forgive, not making themselves 
a spectacle to the world, and “ piercing the Lord 
anew.” Tlie principle is illustrated in the petty 
affairs of parishes. It is no uncommon thing tc 
find parties there arrayed: on one side, the cHr 
gyman, and a few friends, on the other the laity ; 


70 


THE EECTOR OF 


and 60 they tussle it out for years. In fie inidrst 
of this, many are cold and formal to the pastor; 
some openly insulting, others vacate their seatc, 
refuse the supplies, and threaten open war. The 
time taken to bring these petty squabbles to a 
head, is immediately after the holy rites of Easter, 
when from the contemplation of scenes so touch- 
ing, the Churcli prepares them to enter upon the 
consideration of doctrine and matters of practical 
liity. Surely, it would be better to postpone their 
operations till the dog-days, when they miglit 
have the name of being mad and save tlieir credit 
as Christians. Easter is no time for conspiracies 
to tear the pew-doors from their hinges. These 
scenes should be thrown a little forward, or a 
little backward ; forward tc tSirius, or backward 
to the festival of Judas Iscariot. Is it not a burn- 
ing, blistering shame, that there are dissensions 
in so many parishes betwixt the clergyman and 
people, which might have been settled by a little 
suasion ?” These proceed frequently from want 
of judgment or tact on the one part, and of a 
certain knowledge on the other; in tine from ig- 
norance on both. This want of judgment on the 
“ first part,” arises from the non-study of men, as 
there is no endowed Professorsliip of Human Ma- 
ture in any college. The wisdom of a serpent ic un- 
able to be got, without much gliding about softly. 


ST. bakdolph’s. 


n 


A man who has studied nothing hnt Dogmatic 
Tiieology, is fit for nothing but to lie back in an 
arm-chair and smoke, for he cannot hold the nose 
and cram his dogmas down the throat of the un- 
docile “ babe in Clirist.” If the clergyman is as 
“ harmless as a dove,” he may avoid collision ; 
but if he has his “ strong points,” then the etfect 
of his ignorance is lamentably felt. With a high 
hand he protests, resists, is pompous, proclaims 
liis rights, treats the simple and the learned alike, 
does not seek out the proper times, speaks when 
he should be silent, is sidlenly silent when he 
might speak a word in season ; and at last when 
his well-meant plans appear to have the ruddy 
hue of ripeness, he goes gossipping about to en- 
trust his grievances and plans to a “ few friends,” 
and is ready to stand “ the hazard of the die.” 
But however in the right, or however largely his 
excellent cause may 23 repon derate, the judicious 
clergyman will have no need to enter into such 
combat. That is a sad victory which does not 
end in peace. For the most part indeed, he is 
sure to be worsted, and shaking off the dust from 
his feet, he goes travelling about from place to 
23 lace, with his gown tied up in a pocket hand- 
kerchief, to preach as a candidate for some new 
parish, to be a long time in inglorious idleness, to 
meet with many rebuffs, and finally to “ teach 


72 


THE RECTOR OF 


scliool.’" Who wants to teach school, if he has 
been bred up to some other pursuit? It is a pity 
that he had not gone to school ! Alas ! he was too 
good a man : his people did not understand him. 
That could not be expected. It should be a part 
of his superiority which fitted him for his station 
to have understood them. Their usual concern is 
with politics, crops, money-making, and frivolities, 
from which they cannot be drawn by “ j)ains-tak- 
ing ” sermons, if he goes bungling about the parish 
on a week-day, mashing their toes, and rudely 
jostling the petty weaknesses of their nature. On 
the contrary he ought to smooth them down with 
a lenient hand, and then they will purr like cats. 
They will assuredly be disposed to yield a great 
deal out of affection, or at least to get out of his 
way when he goes mdderately by. In worldly, 
affairs, a bold and rash policy sometimes avails, as 
when one who has not learned to swim leaps in 
over his head and reaches the shore. But it is 
better to be prepared. There are many labyrin- 
thine intricacies and queernesses in human nature, 
which all tend to the beating heart. Only the 
severest scrutiny enables us to detect ourselves. 
A man ought to know himself, after living on the 
closest intimacy, and having had the most tender 
affection for himself for sixty or seventy years. 
But when his acts expand into boldness, like a 


ST. bardolph’s. 


73 


CHiTont plunging into the sea, and he goes on a 
voyage of discovery to seek his motives, it is like 
searching for the origin of the Rivei Niger. lie 
goes on till his head is involved in mist, and here 
is the origin of the River Niger. He is very apt 
to follow his motives to a very loft}’ region in the 
neighborhood of heaven, to think that he has 
tracked them back to some translucent spring of 
loving kindness, and to resolve them at last into 
tender tears and dew drops. Other philosophers are 
satisfied that they originate lower down ;‘.n a ter- 
ritory called Self-Interest, and boriow their line 
from the sparkling ground of Self-Complacency. 
“ Much it troubleth me,” says the aged Jeremy 
Bartoldus, from whose MS. we borrow, “and I 
sigh over it in y® night watches, that I so great 
mysterie to myself. Wliy I do this or that, the 
Lord knows, so diverse be the thynges which 
make me preponderate to this or that. Pray Grod 
that y® governing principall be good, but much I 
feare. Here we see through a glass darkly, for y* 
glass give no certain image.” 

Thus far the aged Jeremy Bartoldus, who is a 
most sensible man, and his works ought to be 
printed. I for one, would share y* labor of writ- 
ing them out in a clear hand. 

If self-knowledge be so hard to get, how can the 
Rev. Mr. A, understand the laic Mr. B. ? He says 
4 


74 


THE RECTOR OF 


‘good morning,” over a garden fence. In less 
than ten minutes Mx*. A. is in his study, and Mr. 
13. pulling weeds. Before the same common 
places are exchanged again, the grain of corn may 
be in the ripened ear, and the dry sheaves be gar- 
nered. During the long interval of disjointed con- 
verse, moons may wane, and harvests become yel- 
low^ Kingdoms be subverted, beauty pass beyond 
iis prime, and all which we admire the most, and 
ove the best, be taken forever from us. A beau- 
tiful and polished writer has noted in his “ Sketch- 
Book,” what disjointed fragments make up the 
sum of friendly converse ; how seldom the dearest 
friends are brouglit together ; how soon the inter- 
course is at an end. It is, in short, only by going 
out of our studies and mixing with the world, as 
Christ went among publicans and sinners, that we 
can test the strength of our true principles, rise 
above the cramping prejudice of education and 
peculiar systems, forsake our hobbies, dive to the 
depth of human hearts, pluck up the motive from 
its deepest roots, and write a sermon for the world. 
The man who is bred between walls will be al- 
ways sickly. Then why not open the windows, 
and look out upon the wide, wide world ? Why 
shut ourselves from human gaze, and put on a 
mask like a hypocrite i Tliere are objects beside 


ST. bardolph’s. 


75 


the streams and meadows, green fields, golden 
harvests and purple vintage. It is with men we 
have to do, and of them our Saviour said, “ the 
fields are already ripe luito the harvest.” We 
must go into the world, if we would not he world- 
ly. We must observe the spirit of it, if we would 
not wish to contract its spirit. We can cultivate 
more malevolence and downright avarice in our 
gloomy closets than the open air. There we shall 
be like spectators in a crow’ded carnival, unob- 
served, yet unobserving. From studying men, 
we may partially understand a man. 

Mr. Admuller, Rectoi of St. Bardolph’s Church, 
had been enabled to complete bis education. He 
had seen men and cit.es. He had learned to con- 
trol his temper. He did not test the strength of 
his head against an impracticability. The strong- 
est skull will break. He made allowances for the 
perversities of men. Hence he was never involved 
in any of those disgraceful strifes which have 
sometimes occurred, wherein the pavement of 
churches has been strcvred with shreds of fine silk. 
Moreover, he was not queer. Half the eccentri- 
city among men is feigned, and that too out of 
weakness and vanity. Of all others, let not the 
parish priest show forth any of his queernesses, 
causing the ill-suppressed smile to flit like a flash 
of pale sunbeam over faces which should be serious ^ 


76 


THE KEGTOR OF 


in the worship of God. Yerily, some clergymen 
are so droll, that they invariably bring up the idea 
of saw-dust, not because it is dry, but because it is 
used in the arena. He is much wanting in know- 
ledere of the world, who thinks that to excite a 
smile is to win respect. “Much do I think it out 
of place,” says Bartoldus again, (peace to his 
memory), “ for y® gownsman to play y® Harlequinn, 
by strangeness of cut and carriage, and visage, 
with a vain hope to move y® risibles. Assuredly 
there be native wit ard joke enough from 
ordinarie occasyon for salubrius ridicule, and I not 
go out of my way for sport of this kind ; but if it 
cross my way, then indeed I think no great harm 
done. Much like I to laugh, and little pleaseih it 
me to be laughed at, but my sacred office forbiddeth, 
and far be it from me to strive for such urw-orthie 
end, thereby to injure my usefulness at y® alta’’. 
This nolledge I come at from my much observing 
of human kinde. albeit my travell not go far out 
of Gilliganshire, by reason of cramped income. 
But in y® good bishop Latimer’s days lived there a 
clerk, variously learned, a pietie like to that of 
Holy Daniel of old, yet with inborn droll erie, so 
that he become y® jibe and jest of y® whole coun- 
trie, and his friends botn laugh and sorry. I am 
not like to vary from other men in hose or doub- 
let, slouching, slommacking air, old horse half dead 


8T. BAKDOLPH'8. 


77 


with y® distemper, and harnesse not so good as my 
scanty purse can well afford, I not like to dif- 
fer much in thynges indifferent, but only in 
pietie and strait conduct to vary from other miu 
BO much as God shall give me grace.” 


TVE EE(n'()E OF 


7w 


CHAPTER X. 

SHOWING HOW THE RECTOR LOST A SMALL PORTION 
OF HIS “ popularity” AND THE OCCASION THEREOF, 
AND HOW WRONG THE PEOPLE WERE, BEING A 
COm'INUATION OF THE LAST CHAPTER. 

The people began to find fault with Mr. Admul- 
ler, because he did not visit them enough. As this 
is a common ground of fault-finding in parishes, it 
may be well to set the matter in its true light. 
More is expected than can be justly performed. 
“ Madam,” said Mr. Admuller, in reply to a sharp 
rebuke from the late Mrs. Yosselingen, “ you are 
unreasonable. How can I visit your family every 
week ? P is one of those pleasures in which I 
^ust) exercise the gift of self-denial. There are 
seventy-five families in «his parish, who might ex- 
peet the same. One day out of the seven is with- 
drawn from this. Monday is washing-day when 


ST bardolph’s. 


79 


you knew very well, Mrs. Yossel ingen, that you do 
not wish to see me in your house, and Saturday 
irust be spent in the retirement of the study. On 
other days there may be sickness in my family, or 
i am of necessity called from home; or my prin- 
cipal attention is to a few sick ; or I am burying 
the dead. Thus, at least half the time is with- 
d 'awn.” This, and much more, did Mr. Admuller 
say to the late Mrs. Vosselingen, who however was 
not to be persuaded, but insisted that she was per- 
fectly reasonable in her demands. But if the 
clergy are to be justly blamed for not seeing the 
people, more do the laity err in supposing that 
their position is a mere sinecure, and that they 
have very little to do. We might inquire very 
earnestly whetlier that be not enough to tax the 
heart and hands of a frail man, which is almost 
too much for an angel’s powers. But we will pass 
this by. What is called “ head-work,” in common 
language, is appreciated only by a few. Some 
people think that the hands and arms only work, 
and that there is no such thing as the sweat of the 
brain. They suppose that reaping a field is far 
more laborious than writing a sermon ; and the 
more clearly and simply is the theme deduced, 
the more they think that they could do like it. 
It is no more than just, that these ignoramuses 
stould be put right in that particular. Men do 


80 


THE RECTOR OF 


not speak like prophets, now-a-days, from imme- 
diate inspiration, but God exacts the labor of the 
head as well as of the hands. Every sacred theme 
which is handled from the pulpit ought to be the 
result of intense study. And what a continual 
stretching of the mind, and struggle for the inge- 
nuity, from month to month, and from year to 
year, to set forth the truth with such force, vivid- 
ness, and variety, as to make the people listen. 
For the best of men will find dull and listless 
hearers, if he repeats himself from day to day. 
Because he is a good man, that is no reason why 
his audience should not have a doze, if they can- 
not help it. Tliere are other anodynes besides 
poppies. Look around on a Sunday. Some of 
their eyes are like dead men's eyes with a penny 
on them. There are two classes in church, con- 
sisting, — I. Of those awake. II. (we regret to 
say it), Of those who are comfortably asleep. The 
first class is subject to another division : Of those 
who are serious and attentive, and of others whose 
imagination is extremely active. They imagine 
themselves cut of church. Some are bargaining 
for a farm, and some engaged in the purchase of 
stocks; and to judge from their eyes, w'hich have 
an inverted look, they are dealing with those who 
are a “ match for them.” The object of preach 
ing is to bring the souls of these men back, and 


ST. BARDOLPIl’s. 


81 


put them into their bodies again ; and as to the 
dormant set, to rouse them up as if by blunder 
and lightning, and so lay the mattei before th=i(‘’ 
that they shall think it not safe to get asleep As 
to those wlio are attentive, the main :)t.)ject is to 
keep them so. Occasionally, some of them wii 
sleep, and even snore. In the stalls of Winn 
ter Abbey, in old times, the seats were curicusiy 
pivoted, in order to keep the monks awake. 
if they slept, and lost their balance, they pitched 
forward. If we believe old chronicles, more than 
one of these worthy fathers has been precipitated 
headlong into the aisles. We do not mention 
these things as worthy of ridicule, but in this w?.y 
to draw more attention to them. The Rev. tee 
Rector of St. Bai’dolph’s was also found fault with 
by some few people, because he was too morose 
and did not make himself sufficiently pleasing to 
the children. The same however complained of 
his predecessor, because he pulled diei’rios from 
the limbs on Sunday, told anecdotes and wore his 
hair long. ^ For the sun, which seldom e^-a^’S under 
a cloud on Sundays, ripened the cherries. Why 
should not the Rev. Mr. Beauclerc, of Magdalen 
College, walking up and down the avenue, think- 
ing upon his next sermon, satiate his appetite with 
a few ox-hearts ? Bat farmer Panten, was 
driving his cattle to the pond, saw iiim do it, who 
4 * 


82 


THE KECTOR OF 


went and reported it to Mrs. Panton, and she to 
the neighborhood, that the Pev. Mr. Beauclerc 
had been picking cherries on a Sunday ! “ These 

jittjl thynges,” says Bartold, “ tho’ of small 
moment, like insects, cause no small annoyance. 
If y® peopel understand y® pastor, more specially 
y® pastor have bettej* nolledge of y® kind of peopel 
Le had to deal with, whereby he more fit hisself 
to their individual nature, these petty grievances 
not be. The most erudite in bookes be often 
W’holly ignorant of y* common springes of action, 
and this, methinks, the source of half our evils in 
(Jh irch and State.” 


8T. BAKDOLPH'S. 


83 


CHAPTER XI. 

• 

HOW THE LADIES OF THE PARISH WISH TO GET UP A 
“ FAIR,” IN ORDER TO ESTABLISH A FUND TO PUR- 
CHASE A NEW ORGAN, AND TO REPAINT THE CHURCH, 
AND THE rector’s OBJECTIONS ; WITH SOME REMARKS 
UPON THE AFORESAID METHOD OF RAISING MONEY, 
AND WHETHER IT BE LEGITIMATE. 

Just at this period of the Rector’s ministry, 
“ Religious fairs,” “ Church fairs,” and other in- 
genious devices of that kind came much into 
vogue, and have continued to remain in fashion 
ever since. They naturally arose from a desire to 
dispose of the surplus articles of the Dorcas As- 
sociations. When it was found that a great many 
flannel jackets were on hand, and nobody to wear 
them, because the number of poor was very lim- 
ited — when there was no call for the immense 
number of bachelors’ pincushions which had been 
made, because all the young men married as soon 


84 


'I'HE EECrrOB OF 


as they were of age, and there were no bachelors : 
— when all the little articles of taste, such as wax 
flowers, shell temples, ambitious ’ fans, handsome 
as were ever handled, flaunted, or flirted, in the 
times when the Spectator was written, found’ no 
eager, purse-full ladies to examine and to pur- 
chase them ; — because, in short, money was to be 
secured for sj^eciflc objects, from people disposed 
to, give nothing, therefore religious fairs were in- 
vented. They were so called because the fair 
sex, in the sweet and ardent piety which distin- 
guishes them above men had contrived them ; — ^be- 
cause the fairest and most beautiful workmanship 
of their hands was offered ; and the cause was ex- 
cellent. Tliey were in fact, an ingenious con- 
trivance ; which by a little simple machinery, was 
thought to accomplish its purpose admirably. It 
was usually taken for granted, as a premise to 
start from, in the argument for their justiflcation, 
that the required money could not he raised in any 
other way. For it is indeed hard to unlock clasps, 
ic sen purse-strings, draw bolts, and open strong 
boxes, for any purely benevolent object, which 
has not direct reference to the wants of the body. 

you wish to save a poor man from actual starv- 
ation. men will give ; but as to building a church, 
or sending the gospel to the heathen, (and God 
forbid 'bat T should number these among the 


8T. BARDOLPh’s. 


85 


Quixotic schemes hitherto referred to !) practical, 
or rather worldly men, cannot see, or will not ac- 
knowledge, or do not feel, that the objects are 
‘practical. Nevertheless, to such hai’d -hearted, 
moneyed individuals, the appeal lies ; and if they 
will not give otherwise, their strong boxes must 
be opened by a kind of pious petit larceny. If 
they will do nothing for the object from the 
proper motive, it is said, abandon the appeal, and 
get it out of them in another way. “ Tlie object 
must and shall be accomplished,” say the ladies 
of the parish, “ and that quickly. We have taken 
it in hand.” 

Beside it is argued that this contrivance gets rid 
of the necessity of ashing or gwing alms : the 
money received is in the natime of a quid pro quo. 
There is nothing like beggary or importunity 
about it. If you bestow anything which goes to 
build the church, you are piously cheated into 
this benevolence. Perhaps you are supremely 
selfish, and do not care about the Church, and 
would not give a copper. You will pay five dol- 
lars for your own amusement. If it is for a Bene- 
volent Ball, you never think of the benevolence ; 
but go for dance, music, and supper, and get the 
worth of your money. So with the Peligious 
Fair.” But oh ! do not flatter yourself :hat you 
thus give any thing to charity ! It is the charity 


86 


TniJ RECTOR OF 


which is flung to the man with the hand oigan, 
arter the children at the windows have made him 
grind out all his tunes, and have become satisfied 
with the dancing figures and the monkey. Have 
you not received a very handsome per centage on 
the coin dropped into the box of the bright-eyed 
little treasurer who sat behind the tables, and who 
supports her assumed character of dispensing 
goods with all the charming witchery of a French 
shopkeeper in Paris, whom you cannot think of 
leaving without buying gloves ? You surely can- 
not say that it was extorted from you, because you 
bought when you intended to buy nothing. Tliose 
bright eyes, that pleasant talk, the very fiattery of 
the appeal, have more than repaid your outlay ; 
nay, have left you largely in debt to the little 
treasurer; but that she freely forgives, and for 
what she deems a sacred cause, has expended the 
workmanship of her hands, and her valuable ser- 
vices. Beside, you are amply remunerated by the 
excitemeiit of the affair. It is almost as good as a 
ball, or a farce ! It is true, that worldly excitement 
IS considered sinful by the lady-patronesses, who 
would not for any consideration be seen moving 
in a quadrille, but this is a different thing. It is 
religious excitement ! The note of preparation, 
in the first place, leads to great anticipations 
of what is to be seen and done on the occasion. 


ST. bardolph’s. 


87 


One is called on for plates and platters^ cnps and 
saucers ; another for knives and forks, and silver 
spoons. In some quarters there is a demand for 
tables, towels, napkins, and table-clothc. These 
are intended for an establishment in one corner 
of the room, where tea, coffee, sweet-meats, ices 
cake, and other niceties, are dispensed by fair 
co7ifectioners. All the village poets and literati 
are appealed to, to write letters to such and such, 
young men, young women and old bachelors ; for 
there is to be a “ Post-Office,” and almost every 
one who goes to the Fair, on looking over the list, 
is sure to find that there is a letter for him, and 
he has nothing to do but pay the postage and 
take it out. He surely would not be so niggardly 
as to keep his hands in his pockets and let it go to 
the dead-letter office ! It may contain something 
to his advantage. At last, when the important 
day comes, when the tables are arranged, and tlie 
room is decorated with laurels, and the fair patro- 
nesses have taken their places, and the crowd be- 
gins to pour in, surely anticipation has not belied 
the leality. There is a great buzz and hum 
throughout the assembly ; the fairer portion be- 
ing arrayed in their best charms, and it takes a 
long time to walk round and see what is to be 
neen in 'iie room, and to inspect those articles of 
taste and elegance which are exposed for sale. 


88 


THE RECTOR OF 


At last^ when sufficient time has been allowed in 
this way, and no actual business done, it becomes 
i!.ecess*;ry for the managers to draw the rich fel- 
lows out of their nooks and corners of conceal- 
ment, wher^ they are engaged in pleasant con- 
•mrsation, and by many a winning way, cause 
• hem to do something for the good cause. 

Sv>m3 pretty piece of workmanship is placed in 
their hands. They admire, — they aiu told who 
made it. It would be ver}’- rude to pu'j it down 
again. It is only ten dollars ! Only I "Why it 
is enough to make them open their eyes^ their 
hearts, their purses ! They take it, and pay for it 
smiling, with apparently a good grace, but with 
inward groaning; and as they attempt to beat a 
hasty retreat, they are again and again arrested, 
and finding it impossible to pass the batteries, 
they buy out of desperation, until their arms are 
as full of toys as poor old grandfather White- 
head’s. Perhaps when they get home, they are 
soundly rated for extravagance. “ What a parcel 
of trash ! — and to give so much for it ! It is 
.cOwnright imposition !” 

‘‘ Put, my dear, remember it is for a good 
cause.” 

“Then give your money directly to a good 
cause, and do not purchase foolish things like 
these, which are of no use to any one.” 


ST. baedolph’s. 


89 


“ oil, I could not help it; I could not help it. 
So many beset me.” 

“ I thought so.” 

Some of the “ tightest ” and closest men in the 
community have been made to relax their fists by 
means like the aforesaid. When they get into 
the Fair, they are thrown completely otf their bal- 
ance, and breathe for the time being the atmo- 
sphere of pure benevolence. Tliey give before 
they have, time to think what they are about. 
Tliis is illustrated in the case of a very miserly 
man who was once called on for charity. “ Do 
not ask him,” said many ; “it will be of no avail; 
you will have your labor for your pains. His 
soul is dwarfed.” “We will see about that,” re- 
plied the other ; “you may do him a foul injus- 
tice, and after I have seen him, I shall be able to 
pronounce whether he is not a most liberal man.” 
So he goes forthwith to this so-called miser, and 
takes him all of a sudden by saying that he had 
come for the piii’pose of making a small appeal tc 
his liberality. 

“ How much did he want ?” 

“ If perfectly convenient,” the other replied, 
“ that he would ask him for five hundred dollars !” 

This astounding request proved too great a 
shock for his moral nature. His whole habit was 
shaken, and, rising from bis seat in the hallucina- 


90 


THE RECTOR OF 


tion of the moment, he opened his strong box and 
presented the petitioner with five hundred dollars. 
He was a man of excessive vanity, and this exor- 
bitant presumption of his generosity came like a 
sudden and irresistible assault. The whole com- 
munity was thrown into a state of amazement, and 
it hew from mouth to moutli with the swiftness of 
an electric flash, that old Tommy Yan Hunks had 
given five hundred dollars. It was almost a 
jniracle ! 

To return to the Fair. By the aid of outhang 
ing flags, and other appeals of the like kind, the 
whole populace, of all sects and persuasions, is 
drawn in through the course of the day. Those 
wlio are too poor to expend a dollar can give a 
sixpence to gratify curiosity by a sight of the 
show, and their appetites with a piece of cake or 
pi 3. All goes on swimmingly : and towards even- 
ing, the fair treasurers, who have counted over 
and over the small tinkling change, and have 
6to ;d upon their feet so long, begin to be tired 
out. Still there is a large amount of merchan- 
dico on hand, and notwithstanding the liberality 
of th-O buyers, little diminution appears in the fur- 
iiikT3 of the tables. There remain on hand hun- 
drelo of articles wrought by fair hands, and an 
abundance of niceties. These must be disposed 
‘of by auction^ and the wittiest gentleman in the 


8T. BAEDOLPh’s. 


91 


crowd is selected nem. con.^ as auctioneer. He 
is sure to dispose of many tilings by tlie good 
humor wliicli lie creates, and is especially hard on 
the old bachelors when he exposes for sale bib 
and tucker, little caps fringed with lace, and such 
things. When at last it is found that much yet 
remains unsold, recourse is had to the pious- 
wicked device of a raffie or lottery, after which 
the loiterers depart with their prizes, leaving the 
lady managers to pack up the plates and dishes, 
and silver spoons, for which they are accountable, 
and get home in the best way that they can. 
What is left remains as a nucleus for the next 
year’s Fair ; for another will be held, as the pre- 
sent is found to be “perfectly successful.” Thus, 
I think that it will be evident from what I have 
said, that the whole thing is in the nature of a 
quid pro quo. 

But more money can he collected in this way 
than in any other. Tliat is also an argument and 
a strong one. It is incredible what sums arc pro- 
duced in a few years, when another mode of ap- 
peal would not have realized a single stiver. Tliis 
is all due to ladies fair, through Ladies’ Fairs! 
But this method of benevolence has of late be- 
come developed in different ways, all running 
into degeneracy. One is invited to tea-drinkings 
and supper-parties : and some congregations have 


92 


THE RECTOR OF 


steadfastly resolved to eat themselves out of debt 
When the eye is satislied with seeing, and the eai 
with hearing, or when there are some so gross as 
to he dull in these senses, the appeal of charity 
lies lower — to the stomach. For it is known that 
there is a portion of the community who love to 
be flattered in this region, and it is an ingenious 
device to enlist those also in the cause of church- 
building, so that as the oysters go down, the 
steeple goes up. Wlien you are making up the 
list of people to be called on, by no means ne- 
glect the glutton. In some parts of the country, 
and among some denominations of Christians, 
these festivities have been held in the church- 
building itself, and the whole place has been reek- 
ing with the smell of a kitchen. The great Bible 
has become smeared with grease, while the ran- 
corous and guilty garlic has lingered with its 
smell far into Sunday morning. 

Ill i^rogress of time, the passion for Church 
Fairs reached St. Bardolph’s parish. It was dis- 
covered that certain wants existed, and enterjiris- 
iilg ladies undertook to supply them by the above 
method. When the Hector was appealed to for 
his sanction, he had more difficulty to stand his 
ground than when he opposed the projects of the 
late Mrs. Yosselingen. He was beset by all the 
fair multitude, whose combined eloquence was 


8T. BARDOLPH S. 


93 


almost irresistiLle. Surely, there could be no 
great harm or sin in a custom which was so uni- 
versal, and which had the almost ur animcus suf- 
frage of the clergy ! But Mr. Admuller did not 
like the principle of this benevolence, and (with- 
out meaning ourselves to take any ground in the 
matter seeing that some cogent necessity might 
exist) we will put down his objections, by way cf 
rejoinder to the above reasons, advanced in favor 
of religious Fairs. 

That the money could not be obtained in a legi- 
timate way, he was disposed to question, until •;r. 
energetic effort had been made. What if it could 
net ? The evil of the want would be far less than 
the sanction of the Church to a pernicious prin- 
ciple. He would state the case, and ask manfully 
and confidently for what was wanted, and would 
not worry, tease, or entice, the donors. A free- 
• dh offering could alone be laid acceptably on the 
altars of the church, and that charity must be re- 
baptized which demands a quid pro quo. To give 
ovt of your abundance, where no return is ex- 
pected, deserves not the least plaudit; but, “if ye 
do good to them who do good to you, what thank 
have ye?’* We ouglii; to cultivate the noblest 
Chrictian charity. The occasions for its exercise 
CHTuC.ct be too often ; for if the appeal be not fre- 
quent, the habit cannot be formed. Will not men 


94 


TUE EECTOR OF 


give 3 dollar to lay the foundations of a church, 
until they are paid hack for it in halls, fairs, pin- 
cushions, and nicknacks? Then, we should say) 
let the architect’s plan remain upon paper ; let the 
years add a few more annual rings to the suhstan- 
tial oak intended for the timher of such a church, 
until a race of worshippers shall arise who will 
how down to God in sincerity and truth. Those 
v/n raise steeples in this way, will only come into 
tiie church -yard to discuss politics on Sunday 
morning — they will talk as long as decency will 
permit in the vestibule ; disturb the congregation 
by entering their pew in the most solemn part 
of the Litany, and you may depend upon it, 
that if their hearts were ransacked, the}’’ do not 
care a single fig for things sacred, and they think 
that their two-penny contribution for pew-rent Is 
a gratuity and personal favor done to the clergy- 
man of the parish. Oh ! for a few ripe, unctu:us, 
fruity words in the deficient Saxon, to give con- 
tempt a p’*oper, verbal shape ! 

Lut VI :aore money will be given in this way for 
charitab’i- objects, tliat is also a ]>oor argument for 
superceding a truer and better method of ap; cal. 
The greatest amount of good which is done, is net 
done with money. That may build chu.'ches, so far 
as brick and mortar are concerned, but cannot 
inflame the hearts of worshippers. 


BT. BARDOLPH S. 


U5 


On these accounts, and some others, Mr. Adraul- 
ler would not sanction the holding of a religious 
Fair, to obtain a new organ, although the one which 
they had was builded in the reign of Queen Anne. 
Mr. Tubingen was therefore obliged to be contented 
with the old wheezing, asthmatic pipes, which 
were tuned once a year cn the visit of Mr. El- 
bellen, but the tuning did not do them much good. 
This course of conduct gave great offence to the 
whole parish, and to raariy of his best friends. 
The ladies were particularly hurt, as they had set 
their hearts on having a “Fair,” Many p-:ople 
remarked that he was becoming very headstrong, 
and he liked to have his own way too much ; and 
although his influence was so great that he was 
enabled to carry his points by a large majority, 
and his principles were appreciated by the most 
consistent people of the parish, such a little cir- 
cumstance as this formed an item in the cumulative 
argument which would at some future day be 
brought by the cold and ungrateful against one of 
the truest and most devoted servants of the 
Church. 


TIJK KKOl'OR Off 


OA 


CHAPTER XII. 

■%'HlCn TREATS OF THE RELATION OF MR. ADMT7LLER TO 
TUE SURROLTS’DING RELIGIOUS BODIES. 

The early pioneers of tlie Clmrcli in America, 
like those who are now missionaries in the back- 
woods and frontier settlements, had to contend 
with stiff-necked prejudice. The want of civilized 
comforts and common luxuries, the uncouthness 
and savageness of a new land offer small obstacle 
to a soldier of the Cross. To go without meat and 
drink, to sleep on a hard bed, to bear heat and 
cold, to take up with rough fare, are what a Chris- 
tian temper, a stout heart, and a good constitution, 
endure well. Rancor, and ill-conceived opinions, 
ignorance, and faces “ set like a flint,” in an op- 
posite direction, require better health, better 
courage, more exalted Christianity, and conscious- 
ness of the right cause. The very stoutest are 
alone fitted to contend with, and to triumph over 


ST. BARUOLl'U’s. 


97 


an opposition of tlie latter kind. It is hard not to 
rely upon man. It is very Lard not to put any 
confidence in princes. Fostered as they were by 
the noble and Venerable Society in England, the 
hearts of the early Churchmen almost sank within 
them. They wanted close contact and some 
nigher sympathy. The Church of England, tlieir 
nursing mother, was three thousand miles off, 
while they were surrounded on all hands by men 
and denominations educated from the very milk 
with a loathing and detestation of the Church of 
England. The letters of the missionaries inti- 
mate a distress expi-essed in so quaint a strain as 
almost to provoke a smile. “ I,” says one wliose_ 
lot was cast on the dreary plains of Long Island, 
in the neighborhood of sandy beaches, where not 
a tree grew, “ scarce know how to bear up against 
the contumely of this people. I find that more is 
to be done by a well appoynted hospitality than 
by the most w’ell-conceived discourses from the 
pulpit. They have by education, such HttJe as 
they possess, the most deep-rooted antipathies, in 
which they are set on chiefly by their ministers, 
who have not language or command ol words 
enough to express their contempt of the Church ; 
it is the camp of Belial, a rag of Popery, and what 
not. I verily believe, that if they could have their 
5 


98 


THE HECTOR OF 


way to tlie utmost, tliej would tear us up, root and 
brail cli.” 

Another declares, “ I know not how to write 
encouraging words where all appears so dreary, 
and no just airpreciation of things hoi}'. Here 
are divers sects, which however much they be set 
against each other, arc all conjoined with a firm 
front against us, and conceive, us no better than 
so many emissaries of Satan, against whom tliey 
whet their tongues, and whet their swords, and 
belabor us without stint. Had they their way 
and their will, they would do more to spite us 
than they have hitherto done. Nevertheless, we 
bear up, but weakly. AYe have firm courage that 
the seed here planted will yet grow and bear fruit 
Not in the life-time of this generation, but here- 
after the Venerable Society may have cause to be 
thankful for their efforts. Some few seem well 
disposed, and were it not for their countenance 
the tryall would be more severe. Among these, 
a principall magistrate has presented to this 
Parish (St. George’s) a communion service in solid 
silver, which with the Society’s gift of books and 
tablets, and moneys, is great assistance in our 
weak state. Also, Mr. Nicholl, very kind in his 
countenance and upholding of the clergy, without 
whom we had been sorely mistreated, but we keep 
on our way, although we be for the most part too 


8T. BAKDOLPU’S. 


99 


Depurate to lend to eacli oilier that countenance 
which we gladly would. But we look lor better 
things.” 

“This day,” says the liev. Mr. , “was 

consecrated Grace Cliurcli, in this town, under 
aus])ices which mo deem favorable. Xft to men- 
tion many of the must principall men in the county^ 
others from a far distance lent us the iavor of their 
presence, and the day being line, and the sun 
shinmg, we gathered a good augury. To the 
tablets many years ago presented by the Queen to 
the incipient Society of this place, wei'e now added 
many generous donations both in money and silver 
plate ; and we hope to go on well if the most well- 
strung exertions against the Church do not avail 
too much. Those who live in the mother country 
can form small idea of the deep-rooted animosities 
which the Church of England has to contend 
with in these parts ; an ignorance which does 
not wish to be informed, and a rancour which is 
truly inconceivable. Many are forbidden to come, 
and the mere sight of a surplice drives some of the 
best-informed amongst them well nigh into fits. 
As to the Liturgy, they detest it to a man, if they 
be led by their instructors ; although some few 
among them, to their credit, and greatly to our 
encouragement, are prevailed upon by its supe- 
rior beauty. If once they be won by its devo- 


100 


THE RECTOK OF 


tional spirit, then they make the most ardent 
confirmed Churchmen ; of which number are tha 
Squire of the adjoining town, a man of intelligenc3, 

and Mr. , a man of worth, who already 

promise to us their countenance and effort, so far 
as they may avail. Come >vhat will, we, the mis- 
sionaries, do not intend to lose heart, or to be 
discouraged, although we stand greatly in need to 
have our hands upheld. Hitherto hath the Lord 
helped us.” ^ 

Mr. Admuller, like all American Churchmen of 
his own, and of the present day, was surrounded 
by opposing influences. He was in the midst of 
powerful bodies, represented by men by no means 
contemptible either for talents or respectability. 
But his course was such that he did not lose their 
respect by attempting to conciliate their esteem. 
If he had his own prejudice he never truckled to 
theirs. To assuage those who did not wish to be 
assuaged he did not talk much about essentials 
and non-essentials. Those who are without the 
pale of our Church never throw anything into the 
hands of those who thus play into theirs. Although 
removed from the nursing care of the Venerable 
Society, from acting a straightforward course Mr. 
Admuller never wanted the consideration and 
friendship of the highly respectable members of 
the diverse denominations of Christians which were 


ST. BAEDOLni’s. 


101 


around him ; nor did they charge him with arro- 
gance, for he was the picture of meekness : nor did 
tliey even say that he unchurched others, because 
he was a Churchman himself ; but if I had time to 
enlarge upon his conduct in this respect, and were 
not in a hurry to proceed to other matters, his 
history might afford an instructive lesson in these 
troublous times. The Rev. Mr. Golightly, who 
many years before him had been Rector of a 
neighboring parish, utterly destroyed the same by 
his too plastic disposition and mistaken good will. 
He loaned his church to a brother of some other 
denomination, to hold weekly prayer meetings 
therein, which resulted in “ a very interesting 
state of .religious feeling,” which Mr. Golightly 
was both afraid and unable to check. At last, a 
“ good price” having been offered by the wor- 
shippers, wdio were in need of a house and who 
began to wax strong, the consecrated building was 
brought to the hammer, the chancel was torn 
down, and on the very next Sunday a hell-fire 
sermon was discharged, to the great edification of 
a crowded audience. Mr. Golightly was thrown 
into a state of chagrin ; he was no longer seen in 
affectionate arm-in-arm converse with brother Poin- 
dexter, talking about all going to the same heaven, 
and that we all worshipped the same Master, and 
that charity was incumbent on brethren, and ail 


102 


THE EECTOR OF 


that; but when brotlier Poindexter liad fairly 
ousted liim from his living, lie began to have a 
“ realizing sense” that there is something in charity 
besides talking about it, and his own heart became 
much soured by his reverses when he heai'd the 
clear tinnabulations of the new bell on “ Sabbath,” 
summoning his old parishioners to one of the 
“ pains-taking sermons” of brother Poindexter. 

The complaints of the aforementioned gentleman, 
whose chancel-rails were torn down, were face- 
tiously termed by the Presbyterian wits, “ the 
groans of Mr. Golightlj.” They were no doubt 
to some ears the most musical groans which ever 
came ah imo pectore. The only wmrds which 
sounded like consolation were from Deacon B. 
He remarked, that “ the Church was a house of 
God still. The sole difference was, that whereas it 
w’as formerly devoted to prayers, it Avas now to 
prayer / once it had no bell, now it 

had a bell, and the bell had a clapper; and the 
children; instead of being enquired of, ‘ what is 
your name?’ were now asked, ‘what is the chief ‘ 
end of man V All this Mr. Golightly, who was 
fond of smoking, put in his pipe and smoked it, on 
his way to complain to the Bishop against Presby- 
tery ; and when he received a mild rebuke, he 
dodged out -of the Episcopal presence in a passion 
which was unworthy of him- then he squatted 


ST. BAEDOLPn’s. 


.■‘.03 

without license in the precincts of another Rector, 
by whom he had his shin rubbed off. till being 
exacerbated beyond measure, he went and threw 
himself headlong into the red hot gulf of Calvin- 
ism. 

This event was duly recorded in the journals of 
the time, as a remarkable instance of conversion, he 
having announced that before he became a Pres- 
byterian he did not think that he had “experienced 
a change of heart.” At the time of his “ installa- 
^icn,” it was also recorded in due form, wlio ad- 
dressed the throne of Grace, who joined in the 
imposition of hands, who gave “ the right hand of 
fellowsliij),” who made the concluding prayer, and 
so fortli. There seemed to be more gratulation in 
abductinof him than in having liim, and his new 
friends acted “ like dogs in the manger,” not 
w’illing to use him, nor to let others do so. After 
this he was summoned before the Church Session 
for some discrepancy of views, as expressed in one 
of his sermons, (a mere la2)sus lingucB on his part,) 
with the Westminster Confession, and to have his 
Faith scrutinized by Deacons and Elders ; when 
the reins of his temper slipping entirely from his 
hands, he “ took a dismission,” Nvandered will-o’- 
the-wisp like “over hill, over dale,” and went 
out, nobody knows how or where. Poor Mr. Go- 
lightly ! 


i04 


THE HECTOR OF 


Mr Admuller however did not cnUivale ac- 
quaintances to the exclusion of himself from his 
own house and home. Ilis charity began there, 
if it did not end there. The consequence was, 
that he was held in veneration by those around 
him, although they could not help casting looks 
askew at the ritual, the surplice, and the “ rags of 
popery.” If he did not loan his church for prayer- 
meetings, it was because he did not want his 
chancel-rails to be burnt up for fire-wood. Nobody 
could say that he thought the chancel better than 
any other part of the church, because at that time 
there was nothing in it which looked like an altar. 
The pulpit was against the wall, and the desk 
under the pulpit. Prayers were said rather to the 
people than with them. If he walked arm-in-arm 
with his Methodist or Calvinistic brother, they 
separated amicably at the porch of St. Bardolph’s, 
having discoursed of the crops, the country, the 
pleasantness_of the weather ; nor did they suppose 
that he “ gave them over to the uncovenated mer- 
cies of God.” He never did so ; such an idea is 
not enunciated by Churchmen, but is only a 
deduction of others from that which they main 
tain. 


' BT. BAKDOLPn’s. 


105 


* 


CHAPTER XIII. 

KEFEES TO THE HAPPY INTERCOURSE OF TKii 
RECTOR Wn'H THE NEIGHBORING CLERGY — MR. BEAU 
CLERC, MR. SINGLETON AND MR. BINCKLEY. 

But if Mr. Admiiller was hemmed in by those 
who held opinions differing from his own, he was 
at least privileged in this respect. He was not 
like the early pioneers to whom we have alluded, 
cut off from men of like sympathies with him- 
self. Tlie Church flourished early in the county 
f.f Westchester, a rich part of a rich State, and 
near a large city. He had not to travel fifty or a 
hundred miles through a savage wilderness before 
he could meet a man who loved the Church of 
England well. A journey of five miles over a 
beaten road on the banks of a charming, classic 
river, (abounding in whirl-pools,) brought him to 
the ivy-clad porch of his friend the Rev. Mr. 

*5 


106 


THE EECTOE OF 


Beaiiclerc. In another direction, at the same dis- 
tance, in the midst of a rich valley, might he seen 
the unsightly steeple of St. Matthews, and hard 
by the humble house of its rector ; and some miles 
farther on, in a less cultivated place, the newly- 
erected church of St. John-in-the-Wilderness. 

These several rectors would sometimes meet in 
a sort of convocation, or friendly converse, much 
more profitable to themselves than that of speech- 
making conventions, so that they were favored 
far above the Episcopal clerg}’- in remote parts, 
and could not exclaim in the melancholy language 
of one who lived in more early colonial times : 

The good words from England encourage us not 
a little ; but alas ! we sadly feel the want of face- 
to-face friends. Relying on God, as we do, the 
instincts of nature teach one to long much for the 
sight of those whom he loves, and to grasp the 
hand of those whom he esteems his friends. If I 
were in a land where there were only savages, 
then I should feel as if I were a missionary indeed. 
Absolute need teaches us to throw ourselves en- 
tirely on God, whose truth finds its way more 
easily into the hearts of the heathen than into 
those of the self-sufficient and semi-learned. I, 
for my part, find some bond of association in the 
nobility of the savage, but it is dreadful to meet 
the half-averted looks of Christian men. Here all 


ST. bardolph’s. 


107 


set themselves against us, and there is no such 
tiling as common, social intercourse, when they 
look upon us as emissaries of Satan, and stamped 
with the mark of the Beast. What would we give 
for some bosom into which to pour our grievances, 
which be so many, and so great, that they are 
only not intolerable ; and how often do I think ot 
those hours passed in our rooms, at Cambridge, 
(oh, sweet and fragrant recollections !) when we 
discoursed of our future plans, I scarce dreaming 
to have my lot cast in parts so remote !. I say that 
I wish to grasp the hand, to see the face, to press 
the heart, of a real brother. Letters give me both 
pleasure and pain : pleasure, because they have the 
semblance of words just spoken ; scanty records 
of one half-minute’s conversation ; pain, because 
they only came, but do not come, from the heart. 
While we read, the hand which indited the lines 
may be cold. Nevertheless, we do make some 
small progress, which causes us to pray more 
ardently that these small beginnings may be 
blest. If 1 were not writing to you, my friend, I 
would repress these feelings, thinking it unworthy 
of one who has put his hand to the plough to 
turn back.” 

Thus far ^vrites the Bev. Mr. Jackson, in a fit 
of low spirits, in the year IToO: since which great 
changes have occurred. 


108 


THE KECTOK OF 


Mr. Admiiller, living in later times, and in a part 
of tlie country thickly settled, found three rectors 

0 ? churches in his neighborhood, whose characters 

1 design briefly to sketch. He was on terms of 
intimacy with them for many years, and they 
were all exemplary men and pleasant compan- 
ions ; and they all had failings, although they 
resembled each other as little as they did the un- 
fortunate Mr. Golightly. 

Mr. Heauclerc was a brother of the gentleman 
who once Jield the Eectorship of St. Bardolph’s. 
In age he was about forty; his attainments were 
handsome. He was unmarried. To speak the 
truth, in his day, as it is often now, celibacy 
among the clergy was rather a necessity than a 
virtue. Few men love to subject a refined and 
tender woman to the painful dependence which 
for themselves they are willing to assume, if they 
are followers of Christ, or to the petty annoyances 
which they are able to bear, if they have the good 
of the Church at heart ; although it is true that it 
is possible to find women who are fitted to share 
these troubles with them. Mr. B. was noted for 
gravity, and carried a weight and consistence of 
character which ensured respect, if it did not 
great success. He was a man of few words, some- 
times putting his adversary down by silence ; at 
others, by a single word well placed. Some 


ST. bardolph’s. 


109 


would Lave charged' him with a little gniffness, 
which arose rather from his look of sobriety and 
guttural tones, for among his friends he was emi- 
nently pleasant, and his conversation sprinkled 
\7ith saline particles. He held a ready and tren- 
chant pen : but his course of life was so quiet and 
unobtrusive, that he was contented to remain ob- 
scure, while other men made far more noise who 
hai not half his wit, nor a tithe of his learning. 

Idr. Singleton was ardent and impulsive, greatly 
beloved, and efficient in his parish. In his inter- 
course he was most genial and pleasant. lie had 
a hand the grasp of which was like that of a vice, 
indicating, together w’itli the expression of his 
face, that his heart was big and expansive. To 
the poor he was the good Samaritan, and he was 
no lukewarm friend. If you asked his assistance 
in promoting any personal object, he w’as up and 
doing. His own cares, which were heavy, did not 
engross the whole of his time, so that he was disin- 
clined, on such excuse, to go a few steps out ot 
his way to help a brother. His good words, his 
countenance, his time, his influence, his exertion, 
were brought to bear, and that cheerfully. In 
this how different from many wffio bore the same 
commission as himself! He w’ould put himself to 
much inconvenience, and set himself steadily at 
work, as if he had some important business in 


110 


THE RECTOR OF 


hand, to assist a friend. He was not like many 
others who had no end in view hut their own 
selfish interests, and wiio took no step to promote 
the interests of the Church, which was not a step 
taken to promote their own. He was one of those 
men whom none said aught against, and his praise 
was in all the churches ; but alas! like the very 
good and very pure, he was translated ea:.'ly to a 
better sphere. 

But how shall I paint the Bev. the Hector cf St. 
John-in-the-Wilderness ? He was an oddity in- 
deed, whose rpieerness materially obstructed his 
usefulness in life. I have said that much eccen- 
tricity is feigned from a paltry vanity and desire 
of atti-acting that attention which the actual 
merits of the party cannot win. He whose piety 
or genius would never excite the exclamation, 
“ tlicre he goes,” can draw a little crowd of ob- 
servers by some peculiarity of dress or carriage, 
by some winning intonation of the voice, by some 
unusual phase of conduct. But I am inclined to 
think the eccentricity of this man not altogether 
feigned. In the pulpit he delivered a great 
deal of sound sense as well as sound doctrine, the 
effect of which was in a great measure lost by his 
grotesque action, for he was half the time ridi- 
culous rather than solemn. As far as conven- 
tional things went, he was perfectly lawless. He 


ST. bardolph’s. 


Ill 


made it a i)omt to be rude and uncouth on occa- 
sions where a little ceremony was required. If he 
was very much wanted, he was generally not to 
be found } if there was a time when his iwesence 
was most unseasonable, he popped in. He set the 
company off their ease by his ill-placed rsmarkc, 
not to say by his indelicacy, and his jocularity 
was often ill-timed. Sometimes he carried mat* 
ters with a high hand, and in ordinary circum- 
stances would have been ousted from his position, 
but tho elements of his congregation were too 
scattered, and lacked energy to bring about a de- 
cided action. They were satisfied in making him 
the topic of severe animadversion, and the affairs 
of the parish dragged on from year to year. 

Mr. Admuller had the benefit of occasional in- 
tercourse with these gentlemen, and with the first 
he usually argued on Dogmatic Theology ; with 
the second on Church matters in general; but 
with the latter he was jocose, and indulged in a 
little raillery and opposition. For Mr. Binckley 
always advanced strange opinions, hardly safe to 
divulge, and would maintain them by the hour 
after an original fashion, while his elegant equip- 
age remained without. If he perceived that Mr. 
A. was preparing his lines and fish-hooks to go a- 
trouting, he usually staid so long as to break up 
the expedition. If he came to tea, he would drink 


112 


THE EECTOK OF 


eight or ten cups, and say tliat the bread was not 
good, tread on the tail of the cat, and pinch the 
ears of the children till they wept. At all events, 
whatever their ditferences or peculiarities, the 
above genriemen could all meet on a friendly foot- 
ing, ani be found in each other’s j)ulpits. They 
were rdl Churchmen, and driven into closer com- 
tiiUiii ni by the pressure from without. Tiieir 
parish bounds were not defined by fences v.f stone. 

Terij^'y:% mxvtantur et nos mutamur cum illic. 
Things are very different now. Tlieir successors 
are all in hot water of higher or lower temperature 
both with their own parishes and one another. 
One is a “ High Churchman,” the other a “ Mode- 
rate Churchman,” and the other is called a “ Yir- 
ginia Low-Churchman,” ‘having been sent for 
from Shenandoah, as the parish could have no 
confidence in any theology north of Mason and 
Dixon’s Line. What is exactly meant by a Yir- 
ginia Low-Churchman, I do not know, and am 
not disposed to enter into these invidious distinc- 
tions. Let those who wish to be informed apply 
to the natives ; I am tired and sick of the ever- 
lasting twattle engendered by questions of this 
kind. But the last, if I may venture to use the 
obnoxious term from which I have abstained 
hitherto, is deiiominated a — Puseyite. 

I say that they are all at this time involved in 


ST. bardolph’s. 


113 


perjilexity and troubles. As to the “ High and 
Pry Churchman,” as he is contemptuously called 
by his own brothers, he has enough to do to hold 
his own, as there is an under-ground muttering 
heard the whole time. Ilis chief tact lies in tak- 
ing no notice of what he hears, in going right 
ahead, and never acting on the aggressive. But 
his position is far from comfortable. He has long 
given up any hope, in the present state of tilings, 
of emerging into afield of larger usefulness adapt- 
ed to his education, his acquirements, and his 
talents. Although he is silent in Convention, and 
upbraids no one, his secret opinions are ferreted 
out by the ayes and noes recorded on tlie journals, 
and like many others, he is a marked man. For 
opinion’s sake he bears his misfortunes well, and 
will starve and die before he truckles to men who 
take upon them the air of princes by virtue of a 
tw'O-jienny patronage. Tlie “ Moderate” how- 
ever, has a still harder time of it. He wishes to 
please every body, and he pleases no body ; but 
IS like a man who walks on a wire, and balances him- 
self with his arms. Every moment he is in dangei 
cf being precipitated to the right or to the left, 
out with great pain and exertion manages to keep 
oil tiiewire. Thus he becomes a spectacle to both 
side.s, aTid neither are willing to claim him, because 
he alternately leans almost to the point of falling 


THE KECTOR OF 


lU 

on either side. Here is where the Moderate much 
misses it, in desiring to please all, in attempting 
to do an impossibility, in unwillingness to siitfer 
reproach. Antagonism is a hard necessity ; but 
in these days it is inevitable. If there be vexed 
questions there must be vexed men. Whoever 
pleases God, cannot always please men too. Wo 
be unto that man of whom every one speaks well. 
Policy is one thing, duty another ; and there is 
such a thing in matters of duty as acting in a po- 
litical way, that is to say, in not running your 
head against a stone fence in hopes to knock it 
down. 

As to the Yirginia Churchman, he is by no 
means “ popular,” to use a common phrase with 
the congregation. He exalts preaching, but un- 
fortunately he himself is considered a very indif- 
ferent hum-drum preacher. There are many sleep- 
ers within sound of his voice, to say nothing of 
snorers, and they complain that his long homilies 
on Justification by Faith are to them Heathen 
Greek. He is without doubt a conscientious, 
prayerful man, and his people say that he “means 
well” — one of those slurring criticisms in which 
a clergyman's friends indulge, when he is, (as he 
is frequently,) the topic of scandalous talk. But 
they mean to turn* him away because he preaches 
against the dance, and forbids his people from the 


ST. BAJiDOLPH'S. 


115 


Communion vl. : indulge in merry-makings. Tlie 
poor Puseyite, who is also a well-meaning man, 
comes in for a share of acrimony, since he became 
dubbed with the name, although he has preached 
substantially the same doctrine since he received 
orders. But here is where he made a great mis- 
take, to go to a clerical tailor and have him a ccat 
cut whereof the skirts come nearly to- his heela. 
The Roman priests nod politely to him as he 
passes by, and say to one another, “ if he has not 
tho same creed, he employs the same tailor.” 
Tlie little boys in the street, with satchel on their 
arms, cry out as he turns the corners, “ there goes 
a Puseyite !” He has taken a great fancy for Ec- 
clesiology, and what can be a more useful study 
than Ecclesiology ? If churches are built, why 
should they not be planned with some regard to 
architectural beauty and to ecclesiastical fitness? 
But he is a perfect amateur in such matters, very 
forward for one who lately knew nothing about 
them ; and makes them themes for discourses in 
the pulpit, and treats of them as if they were “ the 
chief end of man.” He has an old wooden church, 
planned some fifty years ago by a carpenter in the 
country, and constructed very much a la harn. 
Fain would he have demolished the whole build- 
ing, but there were no funds in the exchequer. 
In the midst of opposition, and angry protests, he 


116 


THE RECTOR OF 


did wliat he could in the nature of the case. 
Having applied to the Ecclesiological Society for 
a plan of remodelling, they could give him none, 
because the whole building, from porch to chan- 
cel end, was averse to change. Outlandish gal- 
leries, and cumbrous wood- work, fastened and 
jointed together fifty years ago, had a strength 
and compaction which modern workmanship 
knows not. To tear it down would be equivalent 
to destroying the whole building. Or should a 
clear space be made within, and the inside newly 
plastered and pencilled, then the outside, with its 
rounded shingles, unfinished base, steeple, and 
uncouth weathercock, would ill comport with it. 
What w^as to be done ? The wardens and vestry- 
men told him to do nothing, at his peril ; but after 
immense worrying, he succeeded in wrenching 
away the old chancel, and in putting up a new 
one in the Gothic style, with stalls and sedilia. 

This has produced gi'cat excitement, in the 
midst of which he has excommunicated a vestry- 
man. Of course he must look out for a new parish 
— and that soon. 

Not only aro the above gentlemen at variance 
with their respective parishes, they hardly look at 
each other, any more than a Jew would at a Sa- 
maritan. Tliey almost tread on each other’s toes 
in Convention, and have a defiant look as they put 


ST. RAKDO.'LPh’s. 


-217 


their ballots into the boxes. From all this con- 
trariety of opinion, and we may add, unkindness 
of feeling, from this attrition and collision of 
minds, and from so many vexed questions, what 
but good can ensue ? Truth will come out full 
panoplied. In the midst of trouble, the Church 
of God stands firm and unshaken, because it is 
founded upon a rock. Much more magnificently 
does its pillar tower, because the tempests are at 
its base. 


THE icEClOB OF 


lift 


CHAPTEE XIY. 

CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OF SOME LITTLE MISUNDER- 
STANDING WITH A NEW-COMER, AND THE CHARAC- 
TERISTICS OF MR. riPPERELL. 

It is hoped that the tone of these sketches thus 
far, may not be thought too light, or the topics 
treated with too much levity. They are not writ 
ten without a desire to do some good, and to re- 
medy some evil, and their application is not alone 
to the Eector of St. Bardolph’s and his flock. Some 
subjects can be best reached by a good-humored 
raillery ; for however petty in their origin, they 
breed too much trouble to leave them alone. 

It is well known that in every parish an election 
is made in the beginning of Easter week of War- 
dens and Vestrymen for the ensuing year. These 
elections, flfty years ago, were quietly conducted. 
Few changes were made, the old vestry held over, 


ST. BAKDOLPIl’s. 


119 


layiren were willing to stand by tlie ciergy, wliile 
the latter confidently invoked their aid. In later 
and less happy times, mutual jealousy has arisen 
— an assertion of prescribed rights and fear of en 
croachment. Tliis is too well known and espe 
cially perceived in the annual Conventions, (when 
the relative strength of parties is brought to a 
test,) from the mutterings and undertone dia 
Icgues held in the lobbies and porches of the 
Church. One would suppose that a drawn battle 
was coming on, and that, too, in the very aisles of 
St John’s, to judge by bilious comjdexions, de- 
fiant looks, and white-throats who resemble cut- 
throats. Clerical delegates are moreover often 
heal'd to speak of being trampled under foot by 
laymen, who come thither as mere partisans, and 
without regard for sacred things; and it has be- 
come a moot point whether the laity ought to be 
rep’-esented at all, or to have any power to stir up 
disanbance in the Church, On the other hand, 
it is said, that it is high time to put a check 
to ])iiestly dominion, that the age is too far ad- 
vanced in intelligence to submit to more tram- 
mels, and that there is danger of relapsing into 
the worst errom of Papal Rojne. Considering 
the frailty of human nature, a just balance is hard 
to be maintained, and well has the wise man de- 
clared, “ a false balance is not good.” Surely this 


120 


THE KECTOE OF 


has a wider scope than to mere matters of buying 
and selling : “ a stone and a stone ; an ephah and 
an ephah.” 

On the death of Mr. Yan Sittart, Mr. Pipperell. 
a very different man, was elected to the same 
place ; for wdiich, to say the least — and the less 
said the better — he was ill-qnalified. He was a 
man of no elevation of character, although he 
looked for that consideration of which he w'as not 
worthy by any attribute of a Christian or a gentle- 
man. He was both rich and vulgar, and, despite 
the outward appendages of wealth, this vulgarity 
showed itself continually, in an utter w’^ant of sen- 
timent and regard for the feelings of others, in an 
ostentatious spirit, in a high opinion of himself. 
Like all vulgar men in a like position, he was ex- 
cessively insolent to those wdiom he considered 
inferiors, although in most points he had few, and 
in others none. To love him little was to know 
him well. That, alas ! is the case with too many, 
and shows the universal sinfulness of the heart. 
Most of our regards spring not so much from 
knowledge as from the want of it. Mr. Pipperell 
lived in one of the handsomest houses in AYest- 
chester County, a stone mansion, to enter which 
created immediately that pleasurable sensation 
which one feels while walking in capacious rooms. 
Its lawn, well clipped, sloped away toward the 


ST. BARDOLril’s. 


121 


romantic river, and all its walks and gardens were 
arranged with taste. But this was not the work 
of Mr. Pipperell. Ills predecessor had retired 
thither with ample fortune, and with a happy 
family ; hut he was only destined to be its short- 
lived lord. Scarcely had he built the house, em- 
bellished walks, planted trees, and brought it to a 
Paradisal beauty, than he exchanged his ample 
mansion for tlie narrow house. Tliis is an oft-told 
story, and we look not even on hereditary vales 
without a tinge of melancholy. For not tlie mean 
abode and phase of penury excite to moralizing 
on the ways of God ; but where the lordly man- 
sion casts the cottage in the shade, and all is 
given to an exacting luxury; where flowers fill 
the air with sweetness, and where the landscape 
smiles, we feel a sadness which no want inspires. 
Oh ! ye who live in rich men’s houses, think on 
what you have — to lose. 

Where shall the owner be, when time has 
added but a little blackness to the towers of stone ; 
and when the lithe and tender sapling lives in 
the gi-eat crown of the vigorous oak, or when the 
winds of autumn waft the crisped and yellow 
foliage to his grave? Not from the unstable do 
we reason on instability. Well has Horatius 
compressed the theme in those few lines of noble 
Latin : ^ 


6 


122 


THK KKCTOR OF 


“ Linqueiula tellus, et domus, et placens 
Uxor, neque harum quas eolis arborura 
'I'e pra'ter invisas cuprcssos, 

Ulla brevem doininum sequetur.” 

Mr. Pippercll, being tlie liigliest biddci’, entered 
upon these pleasant domains with the air ot a lord, 
while the widow and children to whom each walk 
was dear, and every tree was sacred, moiiined 
afar. They cherished the memory more than he 
knew how to enjoy the possession. Why should 
I speak of him thus, when he is now dead and gone, 
and his sons are dead, having first squandered his 
possessions? It is not well to speak ill of the dead. 
Still it is right to say truth when yon write history, 
and 1 only speak the truth of Mr. Pipperell, and I 
am sure that if he could come out of his grave he 
would grasp my hand for it, for it was his favorite 
maxim, which he had picked up, he knew not 
where, “ Speak truth, and shame the devil.” But 
why, it may be inquired, elect such a man to 
otiice, when he was likely to prove a disagreeable 
customer— full of himself, without affection for 
the Church ? Por answer of that question, I re- 
fer to the tomb-stones in the church-yard, on 
which are recorded the names of those who form- 
ed the old congregation of St. Bardolph’s, and 
who are still what they once were under the in- 
fluence of worldliness or a dull sermon, a little 


ST. BAKDOl.ril’s. 


123 


congregation of sleepers ! It is hard to explain 
the conduct of the living. There lie the dead, 
ask them. But the fact is, that the society of the 
place was already much changed since 'the acces- 
sion of Mr. Admnller. Another generation had 
sprung up ; children had become men, with dif- 
ferent tastes, and more migratory dispositions than 
their fathers. Catching the freshness and spirit 
of a^new country, where all estates are just form- 
ing, whose magnificent resources were beginning 
to be developed, where an unbounded field was 
opening for energy and ambition, they were all 
for life, activity, and the world. Happy for them 
if the good seed planted at those quiet homes 
which they novy considered slotliful, should bear 
abundant fruit ; if, self-exiled from their fathers’ 
houses, pushing to far-otf realms, where they must 
strive with ambition, and with the lust of gain, 
which equalled, if not excelled their oAvn, they 
walked through all the trial as upright men of 
God — building Ilis Church, doing wrong to no 
man, loving their neighbors as themselves. There 
are some affections which have in tliem no stormy 
element. Booted at home, they cling most lov- 
ingly to the present and to the past. To such it 
is indeed painful to grow old in a country village, 
where they have been born. There all seems re- 


124 - . THE KECTOE OF 

trograoe. In a little time they have i)ntlived 
those whom they looked upon as models of living, 
while the new generation seems to he in thei: 
eyes an inferior set. 

But these trist thoughts and reflections lead me 
aw'ay from the purpose. Mr. Pipperell — usually 
written on his letters, V. M. Pipperell, Esq. — held 
the place of the late Mr. Yan Sittart; and no 
sooner did he take ofiice than he assumed its pre- 
rogatives in a very truculent way. Having, as we 
have said, no elevation of character, being no 
scholar, reading nothing, unable to reason about, 
or dive to the bottom of those great questions, 
which ever present themselves to be solved, 
spending no time in reflection, or in examining 
himself, he w’as wholly engrossed- and busied, as 
little minds are, with petty, trivial topics over 
which he presumed to exercise a paramount sway. 
If opposed therein, as opposed he must be, (f:r 
opposition is the life of mind,) the toes of his va- 
nity were trod upon. Forthwith he was terribly 
afironted, and narrated the cause of his grievainB 
in a string of opprobrious sentences, not very lo- 
gically put together. Mr. Pipperell was mali- 
cious — more than that, he was mischie^^ous, a 
great plotter and contriver of evil, and not with- 
out a certain devilish genius in that line. It was 
by no means safe to commit personal matters to 


BT. BARDOLPnS. 


125 


his keeping, he would so misuse and distort them. 
Ill a sliort time this man began to produce dis- 
turbance in the parish hitherto so peaceful, for on 
the very first meeting of the vestry on which a 
question occurred of any moment, he took oppor- 
tunity to differ from the Rector. Now, Mr. Pip- 
perell had a remarkable faculty of making all his 
dependents think exactly as he did, but the Rev. 
Mr. Admuller, not considering himself exactly in 
th3 light of a retainer, very firmly and very quiet- 
ly resisted him. It is not necessary to recount 
tlie grc inds of this dispute. It involved some im- 
portant principle, it is true, but it is now entirely 
forgotten, and can only be understood by going 
fifty ye^-rs back to the records of St. Bardoiph’s 
parish. Suffice it to say, that for the time being 
it disturbed no relations, it produced little talk or 
excitement, it passed over, creating no divisions, 
for at that time strife was more rare; but Mr. 
Pipperell remembered it — Mr. Pipperell remem- 
bered it I 


126 


THE RECTOR OF 


CHAPTER XV. 

A LirrLE TROUBLE IN THE ClIURCn CHOIR. 

Abot:' this time there arose some disturbances 
in tlie parish clioir, scarce wortliy of record, ex- 
cept that the}’- afford opportunity to remark on 
the irregularities which are permitted in cliurch 
choirs. In too many instances we find not much 
decorum in those who lead the congreoration in a 
professed act of worship. The gentlemen and 
misses who sit under the shadow of gold- 
piped organs, often have little knowledge of what 
is going on at chancel-end. Keeping the green 
or red curtains, which slide by means of rings 
upon a brass rod, perpetually closed, as if too mo- 
dest to face the backs of the congregation wdien 
they sing, but in reality to throw their voices di- 
rectly back into their own throats, and screen their 
doings, they indulge in nods, winks, whisperings, 


ST. liiiRDOLPu’s. 


12T 


gigglings, and such like. The sitters in tlie gal- 
leries notice these things, which materially mars 
the pleasure of their devotions, being unable not 
to look over the curtains. Tliose who attended 
St. Gregory’s in the metropolis, some years ago, 
must have been struck with the flippant conduct 
of the choristers. About five minutes before ser- 
vice, the portly red-faced organist would inahe his 
appearance among the smiling nymphs, sit down 
at the key-board, pull out all the stops, and try 
his genius at extempm'e composition, till he filled 
til-3 church Avith noise, and the very benches 
jarred beneath you. ISTow it was a touch of La 
Dame Blanche^ and now a few snatches ixovaDon 
Gicmanni, so that those who had been much at the 
Opera during the week, and who came to Church 
to cherish a different set of sensations, imagined 
themselves back again. Priest and chancel and 
pulpit, all vanished, and again they Avere among 
the circular group, the bejeAveled, ermined, head- 
dressed, elegantlj^-attired group, boAving, flutter- 
ing, fanning, smiling, and having high bred airs, 
Avaiting in a flutter of excitement to pour their 
pent-up enthusiasm on the little Prima Donnay 
when she should receive Avith gracious favor the 
picked-up roses, and press her clasped hands to 
her heart Avith feelings Avhich she could only look, 
but Avdiich no words could describe. Such Avas 


12S 


THE EECTOK OF 


tile association of ideas waked iij) by Mr. Till ups, 
wlio played away for some minutes to the perfect 
astonisliment of bis hearers, with his blowine; of 
horns and trumpets, until, by the looking-glass 
which was placed before his red face, just above 
the key-board, he saw the door of the sacristy 
open, and the white-siirpliced form of tlie Rector 
glide into the chancel, and reverently kneel, when 
he brought his triumphant composition to an 
abrupt conclusion, turned round to Miss Mary 
Larkspur, laughed and talked ! 

The Lord is in Ilis holy temple, let all the earth koep 
silence before Jliin.” 

The worthy Rector knew nothing about these 
proceedings for a long time; when he found them 
out, he promptly put a stop to them. Such dis- 
orderly conduct is more rare than it once was, as 
the following anecdote will illustrate. In some 
places the custom holds, on the erection of a new 
organ, to deliver a discourse expressly timed for 
the occasion. That much-loved octogenarian, W. 
W , now with God, who for many years pre- 

sided over St. Peter’s Church, in a neiirhborino- 
city, once delivered a discourse on Church music, 
in the course of which he indulged in some severe 
invectives on the conduct of the young people who 
sat in the choir. Fifty years after, when he had 
waxed very old, and liis memory a littlefailed,alarge 


ST. BARDOLPll’s. 


129 


and fine-toned organ having been newly built, and 
the same old custom holding good, he repeated his 
former discourse on Church music. But the cen- 
sure which it coatained no longer applied ; for the 
singers were some of the most staid and devout 
people in the congregation, and much they stared, 
and much they were astonished, when tliey heard 
themselves so severely called to task fur im[)roper 
behaviour; they who were religious all, and 
never in fault in the least particular becomino' 
Christians. So they sent their deputy to have 
the matter explained to them. The Hector said that 
he was glad his censures were not deserved, and that 
things had so ha])pily improved since fifty years. 
For at the time when he was a young man, and 
wrote the sermon, there was much unseemly con- 
duct in St. Peter’s choir, to the great disturbance 
of the sober part of the congregation, and with 
that he dismissed them with his good wlshcp. 

The discord in tlie organ-loft at St. Bardulph’s 
arose not so much from a want of knowledge of 
music, from being out of tune and time, squeaking 
tones, and singing through the nose, and such faults, 
which are apt to exist in a country choir, but from 
ofifence taken by Mr. Tubingen at the Hector. Mr. 
Admuller yould not permit jig tunes to be played, 
nor cheese and crackers to be carried up stairs, and 
exercised the right which was his own, in coiProlling 
6 * 


130 


TUE RECTOR OF 


and modifying the taste of Mr. Tubingen. The latter 
gentleman appeared to think that the organ-loft was 
an independent territory, and that the green veil, 
or curtain, drawn before the gallery, separated it 
entirely from Mr. Ad inuller’s jurisdiction. Hence' 
he refused to sing at all, if he could not sing his 
own tunes in his own way, and taking his seat 
below stairs, silenced the choir. Tliis did not 
discompose the Rector. The beautiful anthems of 
our Church can be said as well as sung — or even 
better, if the music is not well done. Some re- 
marked that they were glad of it, and a few old 
people who had a prejudice against instrumental 
music, enjoyed the service better. So that Mr. 
Tubingen experienced a defeat where he expected 
to enjoy a triumph, and in a few Sundays he came 
ba(.K. to his seat, discontented, it is true, to putF out 
Lis b’g clieeks, and to inflict his bad manners on 
vpatiou. 


8T. BARDOLPU'S. 


131 


CHAPTER XVI. 

TjCE arrival of a boankrges, or son of thundkr ; 

HIS INFLUENCE ON THE PARISH, AND HOW MK. AD- 

MULLER DISPOSED OF HIM. 

One day as tlie Rector’s family were about to sit 
down to “a very plain dinner” — it consisted only 
of soup and a small joint which had been boiled 
therein — the runiblin;^ of carriage wheels was 
heard at the door. The eyes of the household 
were Immediately turned in consternation from the 
“ ])lain dinner” to the windows, when they beheld 
a lank horse panting under the inordinate burden 
of a heavy, four-wheeled vehicle, which from a 
hurried kaleidoscope view, appeared to bo filled 
with men, women, and children. 

These different estates were in fact represented, 
the father of a family, his wife, and two children, 
to say nothing of a trunk and bandboxes, wliich were 


132 


THE RECTOE Oi' 


alarmingly revealed upon a close inspection. The 
horse appeared to be almost dead, the luggage was 
cov’’ered with mud, the man and spouse were a 
little embarrassed, but the children bright and 
chirping. 

Mr. Admuller at first thought that his guest 
could be none other than the Rev. the Rector of 
“St. Johu-in-the-Wilderness,” who had come with 
his family to make a passing call ; but on putting 
his face closer to the panes, he declared tliat he 
had never before seen a single ineinber of the 
party. Very soon a loud rapping at the door 
was heard, and in the mean time the new corner 
was busily engaged in unstrapping a huge trunk, 
while the rest of the cc.npany threw out bundles 
and bandboxes, and manifested a serious endeavor 
to unload. Very soon they all stood together at 
the door of tire mansion, and awaited the answer 
of their appeal. 

Mr. xVdmnller’s little black servant-boy, aged 
twelve years, invested with a white api’on, for he 
was at the time waiting upon the family at dinner, 
(and the}^ lived so humbly that they did not keep 
a better servant,) confronted this formidable party, 
as he opened the door. 

The stranger inquired if his master were at home. 

“ Yes, sir,” replied the little boy, “ he is eating 
dinner.” 


8T. BARDOLPIl’s. 


133 


“ Then,” said the first, “ go and ask him to step 
out a minute.” 

The clergyman turned away from his soup, 
much marvelling who the new-comers could be. 

“This is Brother Admuller, I believe.” 

“ Yes.” 

“ I’m the Bev. Mr. Coolman, from the Far 
West. I was travelling in your vicinity, and I 
thujght I cculd not let the opportunity slip by to 
come and pay you my respects. This is Mrs. 
Coolman. This is my eldest son. This is mj 
youngest daughter. Would you liave the k ndnes: 
to let your man give my horse four quarts of 
oats ?” 

“ Walk in,” said Mr. Admuller, with politeness ; 
and he immediately introduced the family of the 
Western Clergyman to his own, after which they 
were invited to sit down and partake of a family 
dinner; and although there was nothing on the 
tabic but the aforesaid soup and joint of meat, Mr. 
Coolman, in truly Occidental style, said that it 
was “ good enough for Christians, and too good 
for sinners.” 

The soui> was, indeed, good enough for any 
Christian, for the clergyman’s wife excelled in its 
manufacture, and seasoned it with consummate 
skill. Mr. Admuller was also in the habit of 
keeping such an excellent and well-furnished gar- 


134 


THE RECTOR OF 


den, (for in summer time it was liis dallj’ exercise 
and amnsement,) that she was in no want of all 
kinds of vegetables and fragrant herbs ; so that 
Mr. Cool man might well smack his lips and ask 
for more, which he did as his little boy pushed the 
table from him, and jumped down, saying, “ I’m 
done.” To say the least, the party was not well- 
mannered, as might be judged from such a for- 
midable and unexpected onset; and Mr. Admuller 
did not at first believe that his new guest was a 
clergyman of the Cliurch. lie however was. 
But although he was rough in exterior, and rather 
wanting in polish, he might for all that be a very 
worthy and useful laborer in his Master’s vineyard, 
lie might possibly be a man of much learning, 
and ardent piety, and his outer conduct might be 
accounted for from the section of country whence 
he came ; for at that time the countiy was savage 
and uncultivated. Its cities had not sprung as if 
from the enchantment of genii, and its vineyards 
had not begun to bloom. So Mr. Admuller scarcely 
thought a moment of the circumstance, but dismissed 
his prepossessions, while his wife, who had the most 
admirable temper, did not lose her ef|uanimity in 
the least. Nor was this conduct feigned on the 
part of either. Like true Christians, they were 
given to hospitality, and like true members of the 
Church, very glad to acknowledge their brethren. 


ST. BA.RDOLFH S. 


Tliej tlierefore prepared to entertain this angel of 
the Western Church as well as they could. Nor 
were there any flitting glances, unquiet looks, 
whisperings, and sotto voce orders, to show that the 
arrangements of the family were disturbed, and 
that the guests gave trouble, but a right cheerful, 
open reception, such as would make a sensitive 
person feel at home, and establish a dull one with 
the fixedness of a statue on a pedestal. How few 
study this important part of Christian duty ! IIow 
few who have houses or homes, have the expansion 
of true charity, and the presence of their best 
friends throws them into a tremor, and they are 
ready to turn the disagreeable out of doors. They 
are in the habit of living entirel}' to themselves, 
which engenders dullness, listlessness, and a selfish 
spirit. The clergyman’s wife was a perfect model 
ot goodness and equanimity. I do not mean th'at 
she was one of those indifferent persons, of a per- 
petual smiling good-nature, who let nothing trouble 
them, because they happen to be born with such a 
disposition. She acted from a high motive, and 
had schooled herself by a Christian life; and since 
she became a parson’s wife, she had been so often 
called to pass through the fires of petty vexation, 
that her temper had become formed and perfected 
like the finest Damascus steel. 


136 


reZE RECTOR OF 


It was with a bland smile that she received the 
guests. 

“ It is more than I would have done,” I think I 
hear a dozen Christian housekeepers exclaim, (if as 
manj^ as that have read the state of the case,) and 
some of them clergymen’s wives, too. 

I know it is more than you would have done ; 
but perhaps it is not more tlian you ought to have 
done. If you will allow me to be plain with you, 
you would have gone into the next room and 
whispered into your husband’s ear, while the 
forehead between your two eyes would have been 
corrugated into innumerable wrinkles, “ Vexation ! 
I cannot take care of all these people. You must 
send them out of doors. Did you ever know any- 
thing so vulgar and presumptuous ?” 

“ Oil ! my dear, we .must try and be polite to 
them. Perhaps they will go away of their own 
accord, presently.” 

“ I don’t know ; we have no room for them ; we 
cannot accommodate Ithem. There is no use of 
talking about the matter — you must hint to them 
in the best manner that you can, that they must 
be gone before night. Do they think that wq keep 
a tavern ?“’ 

That is the pretty little dramatic scene which 
would have been enacted in your household in 
case of such an overwhelming emigration from the 


ST. bardolph’s. 


13T 


West. From tlie kitchen to the cock-loft there 
would have been nothing but hurry-scurry and 
confusion, awful anticipations about the next day’s 
dinner, pulling off sheets and pillow-cases, with 
many an angry commentary out of pantries, hur- 
ried communications with the nearest neighbour to 
borrow saleratus, milk, flour, butter, a tub, or a tin 
kettle; children tumbling head over heels down 
stairs, as they are apt to do on such occasions, to 
make the confusion greater, and the plot thicken. 

“ Oh ! dear me, do go and see ; I believe John 
is killed. Are you hurt, my dear boy ?” 

“ Is^o.” 

“ Then you shall be whipt.” 

In the mean time, the guests in the parlour would 
be hearkening to all this racket, and trying all 
their might to be entertained, by turning over the 
show-books with gilt pages and pictures on the 
table. Is not this true ? “ Yes,” methinks I hear 

the spirited and evangelical Eev. Mrs. Crookshank 
observe, “ I should have had my household put in 
no such confusion, but after inquiring the state of 
religion in the Far West, I should have been per- 
fectly candid with Mrs. Coolman, for I hold candour 
to be a Christian virtue, and should have then 
shown them the way to the tavern.” 

“ Therein I think you would have done very 


13S 


THE HECTOR OF 


wrong, Mrs. Crookshank, for in entertaining stran 
gers, some have entertained angels unawares.” 

“ There are other Christian duties besides, 
and ” 

“Nay, nay, do not put your hand on the family 
J^ible, which is on the little stand beside you. I 
know that you can put your finger on chapter and 
verse, a facility contracted from your much talking 
on evangelical topics, but it is my opinion that all 
tlie Christian graces stand or fall together.” 

But to dispense with such imaginary cases, we 
will attend to the one in hand. If Mrs. Adtnullei 
was not so voluble a talker as the aforesaid Mrs. 
Crookshank, not so active in Dorcas Associations 
for the promotion of nonsensical, unpractical, im- 
practicable schemes, (the religious Quixotism of 
the day : — I hope that nobody will be offended 
with me for plain speaking,) she was not the less 
prompt and active in any immediate duty. Her 
husband was not standing at the gate by the side 
of his reverend brother, with his fore-finger point- 
ing up the street in the direction of the ^tavern, 
saying, “ First you turn this way, and then that;” 
but he was quietly conversing after dinner with 
his new friend, while his wife was glidino- about 
the house as noiselessly as a sylph ; and when Mr. 
Cool man stept into the hall a few minutes after, 
his immense pile of luggage, consisting of trunks. 


ST. BARDOLPh’s. 


1.39 


bandboxes and portmanteaus, had melted silently 
/away. It had been conveyed up stairs, and ar- 
ranged in a tidy apartment, whose toilet-table and 
pure white linen were conspicuous. He and his 
wife were made happy and contented, while hio 
children were romping about as if they were in the 
Far West. It appeared that he had come to this 
part of the country with his family, to see a rela- 
tive, and also. Providence permitting, to “ settle.” 
In this respect he expressed his views very 
freely to the Pev. Mr. Admuller. He asked him 
if he was aware of any vacant parish in thes' 
regions, for although he had lived many years ic 
the West, he should “ like a change,” both for his 
own sake and that of his family. On this point 
very little encouragement could be given. The 
parishes were few and far between, and none 
vacant. St. Bardolph’s was by no means a stand- 
ard of the others. That was one of the largest and 
best. At most other points, with the exception of 
the cities, there had as yet been formed the mere 
nucleus of a Church. Moreover, it was to be 
presumed that the genius of the new-comer was 
too coarse, as it was evident from his conversa- 
tion that he came from a region where they wore 
mittens, and not gloves, and that he was more 
accustomed to handle an axe than a pen. , 

Mr. Admuller however, very kindly conversed 


140 


THE EECTOE OF 


with him on the project, and gave him all the 
information in his power, stating the difficulties 
which might lie in his way, which did not have 
much eflfect on the mind of Brother Cool man. He 
seemed not to realize the fact 'that it required a 
different set of qualities to emigrate from East to 
"West than from West to East, but thought that 
the same could stand him equally instead every- 
where. While in the one case there was in every 
profession a demand for physical power, as an 
indispensable accompaniment ; in the other there 
was a growing taste for eloquence, the arts, and 
graces of society. The clergy were expected to 
represent and unite the highest education, intellect, 
and respectability. 

In the course of a day or two, when it became 
generally known that a clergyman was a guest at 
the Bectory, some of the wardens and vestrymen 
called to pay their respects : among others, Mr. 
Pipperell, who was very obsequious, and invited 
Mr. Coolman to visit his splendid abode. The 
latter did not make much delay in accepting the 
invitation, and was delighted with everything 
which he saw, and he was industriously taken 
around to see everything. Indeed, he assured the 
owner that he had never beheld any house or 
grounds at all comparable ; such high rooms, such 
a stretch of landscape, such a profusion of flowers I 


BT. BAEDOLPh’s. 


141 


and then tlie pictures on the walls, stiff, brick-dust, 
ridiculoufiV accurate likenesses of the different 
members of Mr. Pipperell’s family, both of the pre- 
sent and previous generations. His grandmother, 
with protuberant chin, in the act of knitting; his 
former wife, as sitting for her picture ; and him- 
self in reflective mood, with his chin upon his 
hand, and his elbow upon an end-wise book, la- 
belled on the back, “Eevised Statutes.” They 
were good likenesses, but decidedly bad pictures, 
and by no means came from the brush of Sir 
Joshua Reynolds. Mr. Pipperell had the weakness 
to admire admiration ; he was' therefore favourably 
impressed with the Western clergyman ; he thought 
that he was an honest, simple-minded, no doubt, 
very good man, and invited him to preach on 
the next Sunday, and Mr. Coolman accepted the 
invitation. In the mean time he passed his time 
pleasantly, while Mr. Admuller was in his study, 
in going about and getting “ acquainted with 
folks.” He held conversations over garden walls, 
and stopped frequently to talk about crops and 
farming. He walked about the church, entered 
the grave-yard, read the tomb-stones, climbed the 
hill-tops, admired the richness of the land, the 
rolling flelds, and the expansive river. Then he 
used to return to the Rectory and smoke his pipe 
in tlie parlour, making it necessary for the window 


142 


THE EECTOK OF 


easlies to "be raised twenty times a day, and an 
noying the Kector’s wife exceedingly. But at last 
Mr. Admuller told him good-humoredly, that if he 
would come into his study, make himself perfectly 
at home, take the arm-chair, and put his heels on 
the table, he could furnish him with a meerschaum 
and some of the best Turkish tobacco ; — to which 
he acceded. One day after dinner he was so em- 
ployed, when the Kector of St. John-in-the-Wil- 
derness arrived, and there was the chance of see- 
ing two very queer people together. In a few 
minutes Mr. Pipperell also came in, who after some 
common-places, said that as he had no doubt that 
“ some of our people would be very much pleased 
to hear the new comer, he had taken it upon him, 
in the name of the congregation, to extend an invi- 
tation to the Rev. gentleman.” A flash of indig- 
nation passed over the Rector’s face, but before he 
had time to say a word, his friend, the Rector of 
St. John-in-the-Wilderness, who was standing with 
his back to the Are, remarked, without changing 
a muscle: — • 

“ You seem to have very little idea, sir, of rela- 
tive positions, and that you are assuming an ofiice 
which does not belong to you. AYere you in my 
parish — and I thank God that there is not a single 
rich man in it — I should teach you differently; 
and I am afraid that my friend, Mr. Admuller, 


ST. BARDOLlTl’s. 


143 


has not done liis duty by you ; — otherwise, you 
would surely know better than to invite a stranger 
into your Rector’s pulpit. That is not your pre- 
rogative. Certainly not. It belongs to your Rec- 
tor, and if he is too faint-hearted to tell you plain- 
ly — ^you know I am a stranger and have no par- 
ticular fear for you — I will do it for him. I am 
perfectly surprised at you. Sir, let me tell you 
that you do not know your duty ; or if you do, you 
do not perform it.” 

At this so unexpectea assault upon his great- 
ness, Mr. Pipperell's indignation was too much 
aroused for words ; his cheeks and stomach swell- 
ed toad-like, and he remained dumb. Mr. Cool- 
man stared with a stolid expression, and Mr. Ad- 
muller looked embarrassed, while Mr. Binckley 
snapped his fingers behind his back, and con- 
tinued : — 

“ Mr. Coolman may be the right kind of man, 
and he may not. I don’t know anything about 
his principles — neither do you. He may be Ar- 
minian, or Calvinistic, Ilopkinsian, Socinian, or 
Latitudinarian. I don’t know what he is. I am 
very glad to meet with Mr. Coolman, and sincere- 
ly liope that w'e agi-ee on all points. If he is a 
good Churchman, and I have no reason for sup- 
posing that he is not, he will certainly acknow- 
ledge that what I have said is correct.” Just at 


J44 


THE KECTOK OF 


:liis irioinent, when matters seemed approaclilng 
an unpleasant crisis, the door was gently opened, 
as if on an oiled hinge, and Mrs. Admuller en- 
tered smiling, with a basket of red-cheeked, 
polished apples. Her j^resence relieved the com- 
pany very much. Mr. Admuller took a dexter- 
ous advantage of it to turn the tide of conversa- 
tion ; and the Hev. the Hector of St. John in-the- 
Wilderness, forgetting his cpieerness and didac- 
tics, began to pass jokes and eat apples with all 
his might. No doubt, Mrs. Admuller, from a 
certain instinct, knowing that there would be 
trouble if the aforesaid parties were collected in 
her husband’s study, had entered in the nick of 
time; which shows how valuable is a clergyman’s 
wife who possesses a good disposition and tact. 

Mr. Pipperell presently took up his hat, and 
went away almost stupified ; for he had not 
dreamed of being opposed in his wishes — since he 
became rich. He told how shamefully the strange 
clergyman had been insulted in Mr. Admuller’s 
study, and how his own feelings were wounded ; 
and if he could not be better protected in that 
house, he would never enter it again. This doc- 
trine he instilled into several of his tenants, who 
were members of the Church, and who scrupulously 
agreed with Mr. Pipperell in everything which he 
said. They all unanimously agreed that the whole 


BT. BARDOLPh’b. 


145 


transaction was shameful, and each received a 
piece of roast beef as a reward for their opinions. 

The Eev. Mr. Coolman, from the papers which 
he had with him, was a regularly-ordained and 
accredited minister of our Church, and as such 
Mr. Admuller had already acknowledged him, and 
had given him an invitation to officiate at St. 
Bardolph’s, before the visit of Mr. Pipperell. On 
the following Sunday, he accordingly assisted in 
reading prayers, preached a sermon ! It is of 

this latter that I would design to speak. To say 
tlie least, it was in very bad taste. It had neither 
head nor tail, beginning nor end ; — it contained no 
distinctive principle which would impress itself 
on the mind of the congregation, and altogether 
it would be very hard to tell wdiat the preacher 
was driving at. To judge from his manner, 
although he had nothing to say, you would think 
that the interests of Christendom depended on 
what he did say. lie elevated his voice, he slam- 
med the cushion, he sawed the air with his arm, 
he hammered and thumped. AVhen the service 
was over, one said, “ Pi’ay, who is that?” — another, 
“We must have had a blacksmith to-day! — one 
would have supposed that he was striking on the 
anvil.” — A third remarked, “I have listened at- 
tentively, but could not follow the thread of the 
discourse. Wliat was it ?” — A fourth, “ Wliat was 
Y 


146 


THE EEOTOR OF 


the sermon about to day ? — I don’t go to sleep in 
Church; hut I cannot tell.” — 

But Mr. Pipperell said, — “That man sj^eaks 
with some power. I wish we had a few more such 
sermons, tliey would do us some good.” And Mr. 
Pipperell’s tenants and servants repeated, “If we 
had a few more such sermons, they would do us 
some good !” — 

Mr. Adinuller thought to himself that his friend 
must have belonged at some time to the sect called 
Bantere, and he was nearly right, though not 
exactly. But he had been a preacher of some 
denomination nearly allied thereto; and on the 
visit of one of our Missionary Bishops, he permit- 
ted the Bishop the use of his building to hold a 
confirmation in, for the consideration of five dol- 
lars, which was cheerfully assented to, and three 
persons were confirmed. This was fifty years ago : 
and not long since, in what was then a village, 
now a city, seventy kneeled to receive, at the 
hands of a beloved Bishop, the beautiful rite ; and 
where there was nothing then but cold, unculti- 
vated, barren clods, now all looks cheering, and 
there are thousands wlfo are attracted by the ritual 
of our beloved Church. 

After the aforesaid visit, the Missionary proved 
himself so personally agreeable to the Rev. Mr. 
Coolman, and the latter w/is likewise so fascinated 


/ 


ST. baedolph’s. 


147 


witli tlio Litnrgj of the Church, tliat he immedi- 
ately entertained thoughts of changing his con- 
nection. lie opened his mind to the Bishop, who 
answered his inquiries, but on the very next day 
was in his carriage travelling to a still more remote 
part of the Diocese. 

Mr. Coolman began to read books on Episcopal 
Ordination, and he presently, to the great surprise 
of those who knew him, announced his intention 
to apply for orders in the Church. He did so, 
but his history afterwards proved, as I will show, 
that he was one who wavereth like a wave of the 
sea. 

I am very sorry to have it to record, that he 
made a very ill return for all the kindness and 
hospitality which he had experienced in the 
Rector’s family. lie remained for some weeks, 
during which time he “ spooked about,” made 
himself acquainted with the affixirs of the parish., 
formed an enduring friendship for Mr. Pipperell, 
examined every vulnerable part of the Rector’s 
policy, and although living under his own roof, 
actually took measures to undermine him in his 
own parish. Such dastardly conduct would appear 
to many almost incredible, as coming from a Minis- 
ter of the Cross ; but it is true, and I could appeal to 
not .one, but many, to know whether this be only 
fiction or positive fact. This undennining process 


148 


THE KECTOR OF 


has been applied in many instances by the very 
men who, of all others, should be the representa- 
tives of everything which is noble, and just, and 
true, and generous in man — the ministers of our 
Lord. Mr. Coolman tried to undermine the 
Rector, and to get possession of the parish ; but he 
was not the man to succeed in an attempt like this. 
He was too coarse and vulgar to please the families 
of Westchester, which was even then the garden 
of the State ; and beside, the Rector was as yet 
too fresh in his ministry ; he had too many with 
nim and too few against. The connection between 
a pastor and his people is so holy and closely knit- 
ted, that it cannot be dissolved at pleasure. It is 
like that of a father with his children. He may 
be un -worthy, he may commit sin, he may act incon- 
sistently with his office, but he cannot be shuffled 
off like an old shoe. He cannot be divested of 
that office : — ^he still demands, and he ought to re- 
ceive from his obedient children, respect and love ; 
and I would that this true idea might be wafted 
farther than the merit of these humble pages will 
ever carry it. 

I am now entering upon the beginnino- of 
troubles, and call to witness those who know 
whether there is a single statement in my disjointed 
sketch wliich has not its counterpart in the ex- 
perience of some clergyman who yet lives ? It is 


8T. BARDOLPh’s. 


149 


all true and real : — true as Holy Writ, and real as 
life. 

On the very next Sunday, Mr. Coolman preach- 
ed a discourse, which to say nothing of its had 
taste, contained so much that was objectionable 
in doctrine, and opposed to the Rector’s views, 
that the latter was compelled to apply an antidote 
on the spot. He silenced the preacher, and a very 
unpleasant scene ensued. His Western brother 
took otfence, and the next day, with all his family, 
departed for the Far West, where not succeeding 
in his calling as a minister ol the Church, he 
afterwards taught school, and went over to the 
denomination of Free-Will Baptists. 


150 


THE EECTOB OF 


CHAPTEE XYH. 

CONTAINESTG SOlfE REMARKS ON THE ADVENTHRE RE- 
COUNTED IN THE PRECEDING CHAPTER, AND THE 
PARALLEL CASE OF MR. KINKINCLE, WITH SUNDRY 
REFLECTIONS. 

Had not the Rector of St. Bardolph’s shown a 
firmness fully equal to' his suavity and Christian 
hospitality, though lie could not have been sup- 
planted, he might have been made the victim of 
the aforesaid adventurer. Like the unfortunate 
Mr. Golightly, he might possibly have been com- 
pelled t) shake off the dust of his feet, and in tears 
to bid hire well to his beloved parish. As such 
cases are not without a moral, and afford very 
good precedents, I will record something which 
came under my own knowledge, not a hundred 
years ago, and not a hundred miles from St. Bar- 
dolph’s Rectory, albeit the sufferer was not at- 
tached to our Church, but a very worthy man ot 
the Presbyterian persuasion. 


ST. BARDOLPH S. 


151 


Tlie Rev. Mr. Kinkincle, who preached in a 
small meeting-honse on Sky-IIigh Hill, Fairfax 
County, was the meekest of the meek, and the 
most humble of the humble. His talents were 
not of the first order, but like his attainments and 
scholarship, they were sufficiently respectable. 
All loved him for his warm heart, his social 
qualities : — as a painstaking preacher, as a devout 
man of God, His stature was very small, and he 
was generally known in his parish by the appella- 
tion of “ our little man.” He was “ passing rich” 
at three hundred dollars a year, and on this 
he contrived to support a spirited wife, and ten 
children — a horse and two cows — though these in 
turn contributed to his support, except the child- 
ren, But this w^as not all. He accomplislied 
wonders with it ; he was indeed a model, and by 
many considered a miracle of economy. To make 
three hundred dollars accomplish what it did, 
seemed like a feat of jugglery, or demoniac art; 
but he could truly say, as most of the jugglers do 
when tliey come upon the stage, “ here is no 
diablerie,” (that was indeed out of his line,) “ I 
show you nothing which is not brought about by 
natural causes. You see only the result, which 
you do not comprehend ; but the method, which 
is concealed from you, could be made clear, even 
to the understanding of a child.” When I have 


152 


THR EECTOE OF 


told what stupendous things lie did with this three 
hundred dollars — three hundred dollars ! a mere 
snowball, which melts away by the very warmth 
and pressure of the hand which holds it, and while 
it holds it ! — my hearers have often laughed, and 
said that I wanted to make a good story. I wanted 
to do no such thing : I desire<^ to tell a good story 
which was already made to my hands, and that it 
might have an effect upon those who have plenty, 
yet are ever grumbling that they are unable to 
make both ends meet. I assure you that there is 
no exaggeration about it ; but it could be proved 
every year by the double columns of Mr. Kinkin- 
cle's books, the one showing what he had received, 
the other, spent. Three hundred dollars can do 
as much for one man, as three thousand can for 
another, although I do not happen to be that one 
man, 

"Well, for this sum I will tell you what Mr. Kin- 
kincle w.as able to perform or exhibit in the course 
of a current year. That he actually did what I 
say, I know^ because he had no bank stocks, or 
other securities, and owed not a penny in the 
world. He lived well. That is to say he had 
good bread and butter, coffee, tea, vegetables, and 
meat, every day, and plenty of them. He edu- 
cated his children.^ and as his sons grew up, he 
sent them to college. He entertained a great deal 


ST. bardolph’s. 


153 


of company, and his wife was not deficient in 
sweetmeats. He always ' liad a spare bed-room, 
and never turned a stranger away, wliile many 
strangers who had no claim called on him. He 
travelled a great deal in the course of the year, 
especially to the city, where he had to pay his 
own expenses, and those whom he had often enter- 
tained with his best fare, never thought even of 
asking him to dine. He gave liberally for objects 
of charity. Lastly, he laid ujp a snug little sum 
every year. Ilow he did all this with his reve- 
nue, we will forbear to inquire. That would dis- 
solve the charm of mystery. Beside, those who 
laugh outright, disbelieve, and ask the question, 
would not be apt to profit by the knowledge. 
Tlierefcre, they must even remain poor on five 
times the money, and in debt beside. 

Having descri])ed his economy, I have not told 
half his virtues. His labors were incessant. 
Every night he attended prayer meetings, and 
every Sunday preached three sermons each an 
liour long. He visited his parishioners every day 
in the week, and had long conversations with old 
deaf ladies. In this way he expended more of 
his lungs than in the pulpit. With such a man 
to be their pastor, who listened patiently to com- 
plaints, yet never complained, if his people were 
not suited, they were undeserving of a better 

7 * 


154 : 


THE RECTOR OF 


Indeed, they loved him much. Tliere was not 
heard a dissenting voice till Rev. Mr. Dissemhlen 
came, lie also was a Son of Thunder. He ham- 
mered the pulpit cushion, tore the ancient Bible to 
pieces, and got up a Revival of Religion in the 
parish. Many experienced a change of heart, and 
when asked, as they all were, at what precise 
instant of time they dated this conversion, they 
all placed it at a day posterior to Mr. Kinkincle’s 
ministrations, even to the first hour, “ blessed be 
God,” when they heard the sound of brother 
Dissemblen’s voice. Then he put his arms round 
their necks, whether young women or young men, 
(for few old sinners were turned,) and told them 
atfectionately that they must have “ large desires,” 
and must “ dig deep.” At last he completely won 
the hearts of the new converts, and they thought 
that a man who had been the “instrument of sc 
much good,” was alone fitted to guide them. Their 
own pastor appeared cold and dead, “ without the 
fruits of vital religion.” So they determined to 
oust him, while he who had only come to be a “ co- 
worker in the Lord’s vineyard,” with his brother, 
lent a ready help. Mr. Kinkincle was hurt and 
wounded to the quick, the spirit of his wife rose in 
arms, and in a moment of disgust he abandoned 
them forever. His successor shorfi; nfter also left 
the field so lately wor, buc not nnG' i‘ had become 


ST. bardolph’s. 


155 


scathed and blackened as if a red-hot fire had swept 
over it ; not until the hearts which were once alive 
to religious impressions' had become as callous as 
stones ; not until there ensued a season of total 
deadness and depravity, such as had not been 
known. 

The above is but another instance to prove the 
want of appreciation, the weakness and ingratitude 
which the clergy have to contend with in parishes. 
It also shows a contemptible destitution of honour 
and Cliristian nobleness on the part of some who 
are numbered among the clergy, in doing so das- 
tardly an act as that which has been recorded in 
the foregoing pages. Some men seem to think that 
religion has little to do with ordinary relations, 
and that they can rise high over these into the 
ethereal atmosphere of the feelings. In other 
words, that they can get i\ear to God without going 
through the duties which they owe to their fellow- 
men. Some who can indulge in high transports, 
almost basking, as they express it, in the sunshine 
of God’s presence, will go out in the world and 
drive the keenest bargain which was ever made to 
defraud the widow and the orphan. Though they 
maintain a severe front, and refuse to relax the 
brows in innocent merriment, they catch the essen- 
tial 6j)irit of worldliness, by being absorbed in the 
lust of gain, and in the intense selfishness of their 


156 


THE KECTOE OF 


hearts, ever cutting the most blessed bond of 
charity. 

To return to the subject of which we were just 
speaking, it is astonishing what mischief is wrought 
by rude intruders into other men’s parishes. There 
are many who would not intentionally act in an 
unchristian manner, much less emulate the exam- 
ple of Mr. Admuller’s visitor, yet they seem un- 
mindful or ignorant of the delicate relations which 
immediately spring up the moment that they enter 
upon precincts which are not their own. Some 
strangers, on being invited into a friend’s pulpit, 
seize the occasion to swerve from the ordinary 
teaching of ordinary doctrines, and broach the 
most delicate topics, which the Hector himself is 
wont to handle with timidity and care. He brings 
these subjects before his people rarely, and in the 
most guarded manner, not without having studied 
deeply how he may do it so as to convey no false 
impressions — so as not to be misunderstood by the 
well-meaning but ignorant. They rudely thrust 
their random remarks and reflections into the very 
faces of the congregation, while the Rector sits be- 
low in the chancel in the great arm-chair, casting 
up uneasy looks, and covering his face with his 
sleeves for mortification. Others, at such a time, 
fulminate their opinions, however liable to animad- 
version, as if their feet were on their native soil. 


ST. bardolph’s. 


157 


and their name McGregor, The late Rev. Dr. 
Miller (Presbyterian,) who was in all points a per- 
fect gentleman, after the precise and punctilious 
order of the old school, once wrote a. book on the 
principles of clerical etiquette, which, like every- 
thing which he did, was composed with care, and 
may be still read with profit. It is intended to 
suit the case of those who are very green, green as 
grass, but who are willing to learn. With respect 
to all intruders, “ squatters,” and itinerant wolves, 
we suppose that they are ultra terminum^ beyond 
the limits of any appeal which may be made to a 
sense of Christian honor. 

When Mr. Coolman went away, although he had 
accomplished nothing for himself, I did not mean 
to say that his visit was without harm to the peace 
of the parish, or of the Rector. There were quar- 
ters where he had planted the seeds of evil which 
afterwards sprang up. For some thought Mr. Ad- 
mullcr was very forbidding and unapproachable, 
and his wife had an air and carriage quite too del- 
icate. They liked one who could grab them with 
a hand as coarse as Mr. Coolman’s, and a fat, vul- 
gar woman to buzz about them, something like 
Mrs. Coolman. They were quite taken with his 
manners, and they liked his “ sarmons ” very well. 
Mr, Pipperell liked him. lie said he did. 

The Rector never gave these things a second 


158 


THE RECTOR OF 


thought, but went quietly about his business ; and 
the business of the parish always kept him em- 
ployed. He did more by his industry for the 
Church in Westchester than any man who went 
before him, and as much as any man who has yet 
succeeded him in office. He was engaged in form- 
ing new parishes within his bounds. This was a 
work full of difficulty and discouragement. It re- 
quired faith, patience, and a devoted attachment 
to the principles of the Church. He would drive 
eight or ten miles after having lield his two ser- 
vices at St. Bardolph’s, to hold an evening service 
in a schoolhouse. When he arrived, there would 
be assembled about three churchmen, who were 
anxious for his presence, ten or a dozen others who 
nad come out of curiosity, and a few whom he had 
brought with him to make the responses, and give 
effect to the service. He would preach as earnest 
a discourse to these few as if he addressed a mul- 
titude ; and although the scene was then cold, and, 
as the winter, cheerless; though he never lived to 
behold the seed grown, or the harvest gathered, 
already his successors have seen the fields white, 
and have reaped abundantly. Where once the few 
worshippers were gathered, now rises the graceful 
spire over some little temple of God ; and as the 
Sunday bells sound cheerily, hundreds fiock to 
gether to unite in the beautiful services of tb 


ST. BAEDOLPHS. 


'159 


Cbarcli. The good Bishop often comes, and his 
presence is a token of Christian fellowship through- 
out the parish bounds. It is a festival of rejoicing ; 
all classes gather around him with affection, and 
the day, which is long anticipated, is remembered 
long. 

Some of the most flourishing churches in the 
country have had their origin from the persevering 
efforts of devoted men, who were at first mocked, 
and for a long time content to see no result of their 
laboi-s. They acted, perhaps, as lay readers in 
houses where two or three would be met together. 
In a short time there would be a great borrowing 
of chairs and benches from the neighbouis. Yery 
soon a complaint would arise of the want of room, 
and the next step would be the fitting up of a hall, 
or loft. At last, the foundation stone would be 
solemnly laid of a neat church, to be devoted to 
the service of Almighty God 
Those who are employed in such noble labours 
have little time to brood over the ordinary vexations 
of the world. They are too elevated to busy them- 
selves in ransacking the origin of petty reports, or 
investigating petty local topics ; a disposition which 
arises from living in small neighborhoods, where 
there is too little stirring to excite the vigorous 
mind. Ho man was more free than Mr. Admuller 
from any frailty of this kind. He looked above 


160 


THE KECTOE OF 


the fields of all contemptible, little warfare, to the 
objects for which he strung his nerves, and toward 
which he directed his noblest ambition. The sources 
whence he drew consolation were deep and pure 
enough to solace him for any casual sting which 
ignorance, or thoughtlessness, or ingratitude, could 
inflict. Hence, the visit of Mr. Coolman gave him 
very little uneasiness, although his memory re- 
mained in the musk-like duration of the fumes of 
tobacco. On the Sunday after his departure, as he 
was at that time exposed to the very dangerous 
navigation of Lake Erie, there was ofiered up in 
St. Bardolph’s Church, for him and his family, the 
prayer “ for persons gone to sea.” 


8T. BARDOLPh’s. 


161 


CHAPTER XYHI. 

WHICH TREATS OF THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL AT ST. BAB- 
DOLPh’s, and ITS EXCELLENT ORGANIZATION, WITH A 
GOOD WORD FOR SUNDAY-SCHOOLS OF THE RIGHT 
SORT. 

In this ancient parish, the most interesting 
feature was the Sunday-school. At least an hun- 
dred children were under regular religious training, 
which had never been intermitted since the founda- 
tions of the Church were laid. To this cir- 
cumstance alone, the present comparative pros- 
perity might be assigned. Accessions in any 
other way are purely accidental ; and the mere 
addition of numbers avails nothin’g, if composed 
of those not educated in the principles of the 
Church. The Cliurcli at the present day will not 
owe its efficiency so much either to converts or 
proselytes. These are too apt to bring with them the 


162 


THE RECTOE OF 


taint of early prejudice and education ; to acquaint 
themselves indifferently .with the true doctrines of 
the cause which they have espoused, or perhaps 
with the enthusiasm of novices to distinguish 
themselves by running into violent extremes* 
Some, like Mr. Coolman, being disappointed in 
their hopes, easily relapse into the errors from 
which they seem to have withdrawn ; nor can it be 
doubted that others have been deliberately trans- 
planted from adverse seminaries with the hope, or 
rather the arrogant presumption, of reforming the 
body into which they come. But the hope and pro- 
mise of every rising Church is in the young, because 
humility, and obedience, and reverence, which can 
with the utmost difficulty be acquired in the full- 
grown man, are easily inculcated in the child. The 
Holy Spirit hovers above the font where the young 
are brought to be baptized ; but at a later period 
the hand of Jesus must by a miracle fairly drag 
the unbelieving from the troubled waves. Not to 
cherish the old is a crime, flagrant and heinous, 
but it curses the earth because the old have flrst 
neglected the young. 

The childreiv of St. Bardolph’s formed a large 
part of the congregation, and were extremely well-' 
behaved and attentive listeners. With cheerful, 
shining faces, neatly dressed, and little folded 
kerchiefs and prayer-books in their hands, it was 


ST. bakdolph’s. 


163 


a treat to see them on a summer’s day, as at the 
hour of morning service they ushered from their 
liomes in the direction of the parish church. Some 
belonged to wealthy parents in the vicinity, others 
came fi-om poor houses, and many walked even 
miles out of the ordinary routes, over fenced fields, 
and by-paths, and styles, wooed by the sound of 
the church-going bell. The church-going bell ! 
It has a magic, moral infiuence, and the sweeter- 
toned the better. It is not only that it reminds 
the people that the hour of prayers has come, but 
vibrates to so many linked and tender associations. 
I, for one, wherever a village church is to. be built, 
would have, not only the sound of organs, but, if 
possible, even of musical chimes, that the children 
of a parish might be brought up within hearing of 
them, and that the grown man, when he returns to 
the village where he was born, may have his best 
memories revived, and weep when he listens to 
them. At the close of morning service, the young 
people gathered around the chancel, presenting a 
spectacle which would have delighted the heart of 
Mr. Kobert Kaikes. But in fact this Sunday- 
school had been established before the existence of 
Mr. Robert Raikes, because catechetical instruction 
is an inherent part of the system of the Church. 
True, the assembly was not composed of a great 
many classes, or many teachers. But the con- 


164 


THE RECTOR OP 


stitution of the Sunday-school was somewhat thus: 
Superintendent, Mr. Admuller ; teacher, Mr. Ad- 
mull er ; librarian, Mr. Admuller. In fact, the 
Hector felt that his personal supervision of the 
young was the most imperative part of duty as a 
Church clergyman. Therefore what properly de- 
volved on him he did not think fit to commit to 
the most excellent subordinates. A master work- 
man will look out for the foundations, and in a 
well-ordered parish the Hector does not find it too 
burdensome to instruct all the children of his fiock , 
in the first principles of Christian knowledge. In 
large cities, where there are multitudes of the poor 
and ignorant, to whom no place is assigned in the 
well-warmed, well-cushioned, well-carpeted church- 
es, where Gayety and Fashion, for a change of 
sensation, are wheeled on a Sunday morning to 
listen to “ crack preachers,” the benevolent institu- 
tion of Mr. Haikes comes admirably into play. 
These children are too ragged to be brought into 
respectable churches, and to be collected around 
the chancel rails, to partake of regular catechetical 
instruction from the pastor’s own lips. They must 
be removed into school-rooms, whose associations 
are by no means sacred, and where they receive 
from him at best an indifferent supervision. What 
the Church leaves undone through its authorized 
ministers, the well-disposed and benevolent take 


8T. BARDOLPh’s. 


165 


np and accomplish. Because thousands of the 
flock are at large within parish-bounds, having no 
shepherd, it is well that some are found to go after 
them, and to enfold them, so that they may at 
least be taught to read and to know that there is a 
God and Saviour of mankind. There are many 
benevolent institutions of the present day, apart 
from the Church, whose objects are to feed the 
hungry, to clothe the destitute, to tend the sick 
and the dying, which are a standing reproach to 
the Church of God, which is able to accomplish 
these things, and does it not. All honor and 
esteem, then, to the memory of Mr. Raikes, and 
those who have succeeded him, for the good which 
they have done in collecting the poor and destitute 
children from the streets and lanes of the city on 
the Lord’s Day ; but if it be possible, (as it is,) we 
respectfully submit, whether a better plan would not 
be for the regularly constituted minister to take the 
matter into his own hands, and with his own lips to 
instruct these children individually, or if too many, 
collectively, at the chancel-rails ? Such, at any 
rate, was the system pursued at St. Bardolph’s, 
and its effect was most salutary. The young were 
thus early trained in a regard and reverence for 
those who were placed over them, imbibed some 
knowledge of the principles of the Faith into which 
they were baptized, and some little inkling of that 


166 


THE RECTOR OF 


Catholic obedience, the want of which gives the 
Church over to dissension, and its clergy to the 
tender mercy of demagogues. 


8T. BARDOLPh’s. 


167 


CHAPTER XIX. 

IN WHICH ARE MENTIONED SOME FEW PARTKJUEARS 
CONCERNING THE RECTOr’s FAMILY ; WITH A PLEA 
FOR clergymen’s CHILDREN, COJHBATING THE PRE- 
VAILING OPINION THAT THEY ARE MORE INTRACTABLE 
THAN OTHER PEOPLe’s CHILDREN, AND SHOWING THE 
ORIGIN OF THE SAME. 

The few pages which we have written, never- 
theless include many years, and those the most 
important in the life and ministry of the Rev. Mr. 
Admuller, yet we have scarce alluded to him ex- 
cept in connection with parochial matters. With 
the domestic affairs of the clergy all persons are 
supposed to he familiarly acquainted, and they are 
published without being written. We should 
therefore be behind the age in telling mere family 
matters, which have already been in the mouths 
of men, familiar as household words. Tliat our 


168 ' THE RECTOK OF 

Hector liaa a numerous family, has already been 
anticipated, for “ they say ” that clergymen are 
always blest with large progeny. If he formed 
no exception to this rule, and if his wife were like 
the fruitful vine, his children were at least unde- 
serving of the common opprobrium which is un- 
justly heaped on these little clerical innocents. 
They did not rob the neighbour’s gardens, pluck 
the apples, peaches, and melons, just erubescent 
in the sun, were not wild and incorrigible at 
school, or out of doors, and not even a nuisance at 
home. They were all “ good boys,” amiable and 
well-behaved little girls ; indeed an example to 
all the little boys and little girls in the parish. 
There is truth in the transmission of qualities, and 
they inherited honesty from both parents, and a 
great regard for other people’s feelings ; and little 
as their feet were, they by no means planted their 
little feet on other people’s toes. For they were 
early taught, and it was a part of their Christian 
education, that this was rude and naughty, for 
toes, by the cramping of civilization, have become 
sensitive and very tender. Among other virtues 
possessed by the little Admullers, from the infant 
just beginning to talk, to Hobert, the eldest son, 
MT. twelve years, they conversed afiably when 
spoken to, but did not make a great clack, or 
great clatter, when others were in the midst of an 


8T. BARDOLPh’s. 


169 


interesting colloquy. In short, they kept them- 
selves, or were kept^ out of the way, where their 
society was not needed, nor was the eldest ever 
requested to step into the middle of the floor, nor 
coaxed, and importuned, and wheedled by every 
pressing argument, to be so obliging for the 
amusement of the guests, as to speak in his best 
manner, My name is Norval.” Tliey merely 
babbled as other juveniles, bawled aloud in the 
nursery to expand their lungs, or whined and fret- 
ted when they w^ere teething. This was natural. 
Nevertheless, the people of St. Bardolph’s did 
give them the name of being mischievous, be- 
cause the eldest boy, one day in going to school, 
picked up a cant phrase from two boys who were 
quarrelling near a pump, and afterwards applied 
the same. 

Is it not a popular fallacy, this imputing of 
peculiar delinquency to the little ones of parsons? 
Is there not something of a Herodian spirit in 
this onslaught on their tender reputations ? 

It is, however, true, that all things being equal, 
they compare favorably with the best laic chil- 
dren ; only, like their parents, they are subject to 
severer scrutiny, by superiority of juvenile posi- 
tion. In them we have a right to look for the 
force of example, and for the fruits of religious 
training. They are so many little animated 8cr 


170 


THE BECTOE OF 


mons^ on wliicli tlie congregation of tlie public 
puts a very iixed gaze, or rather glare^ (such as 
would do li jnour to them on other occasions,) and 
very anxiously await the “ improvement.” Of 
course, like all sermons, these are liable to public 
remark. One and another says of them, “ They 
are dressed in too much ambitious finery,” they 
are “ negligent, and show a want of care,” “ the 
fair leaves of their conduct seem to be blotted,” 
they are “rambling,” they are “too noisy and 
vociferous,” they are “miserable and without 
force ” — it is, in short, because the little things do 
not kitow that they are preaching sermons. They 
think not of the effect which they produce. They 
are like cherubs sculptured in basso-relievo on 
the columns wdiich support the churches ; and all 
the little cherubs who are brought to church may 
be tattered and torn and soiled, but every body 
looks up and remarks if there is any defacement 
of the cherubs sculptured in basso-relievo. 

To drop figures^ after an exemplary clergyman, 
tlie people look (and we suppose that they have a 
right) to an exemplary clergyman’s wife, and after 
her, to an exemplary clergyman’s exemplary chil- 
dren. For a good minister, like a good man, 
does not preach or discourse only in the formal 
act of discoursing. His family, his children, his, 
servants, his well-weeded garden, his horse, his 


ST. bardolph’s. 


171 


cow, liis calf, his carriage, all preach a louder 
sermon to the world, and one may hammer the 
cushion to pieces, and exhaust the whole body of 
theology in the desk, while, through the informal 
teaching of his household, he has denied the faith, 
and is worse than an infidel. To this kind of dis- 
course all people give attention. In fact, there is 
more sermon in everything than in serm,ons. If 
(as the great hard expresses it) sermons are to he 
found in stones, much more when stones, as in the 
Arabian story of enchantment, are changed into 
a congregation of human beings, and these last 
are composed of minister’s children. They cry 
out, and babble, and defeat the purpose of the 
fathers who are struggling up the hill, so that 
their effort is fruitle'ss, and themselves petrified. 
This teaches the clergy to have a peculiar care of 
all sermons which are fulminated not merely in 
their pulpits^ but in their families, in their walk, 
in their . conversation. Tliey may have their 
libraries filled with vellum-bound volumes and 
rare books, in the purchase of which they have 
expended one-half of their penurious salaries : — 
they may pore from Monday morning till Satur- 
day night over dogmatic Theology, and truly we do 
“not undervalue,” as saith Bartold, dogmatic Tlie- 
ology ; they may read, write, study, pray, preach, 
while other influences, over which they have con- 


172 


THE EECTOR OF 


trol, annul their reading, writing, studying, pray- 
ing, preaching. 

The laity are more jealous of their reputations 
than they are of their own ; and if any handle be 
afforded by their conduct, they may rest assured 
that the more disingenuous will be sure to take hold 
of it. Among other things, they will always lift 
their children up by the ears, because while they 
have been sitting in their studies in an old cas- 
sock, with the door locked, they have let the little 
creatures luxuriate abroad according to their na- 
tures, like vines untrimmed. 

“Now we doe not deny,” as saith Bartholdy 
again, “ that some of y® little innocents be intrac- 
table, and heady, as they doe saie, though not in 
larger proportion, but if soe be, it doe arise from 
two Mistakes^ (either of them be very great ones,) 
in y® conduct of their educacyon. And y® first is, 
that theyre parents be so strict with them, and 
doe so straitly make them conform to religious 
rule, that they conceive great disgust, and go into 
y® opposite extream. For where y® use of sayinge 
that wisdom’s waies are waies of pleasauntness, 
when you doe make them very thornie and dis- 
agreeable to y® younge, so cramping them in y® 
naturall innocent instincts, and turning y® Lord’s 
Daie into a perfect drudgerie, as y® observance of 
it doe not require ; so precludyng them from in- 


ST. baedolph’s. 


1Y3 


nocent amusement, whicli theyre age require, and 
makyng them to think it be a sinn, whereby be- 
ing guiltie of disobeying such injuncyon, they doe 
naturally, by a very proclivity, goe very far in 
wickednesse. But y® other faute is, that they doe 
not at all constrayne their offspring, but while 
they be very faithful to other peopel, neglect 
theyre own, in so much that they run vagabond, 
thereby giving occasyon among the not well-dis- 
posed to make remark. But as to clergyman’s 
children’s being, all thynges considered, worse 
than others, I for one doe not believe it” 


m 


THE KECTOK OF 


CHAPTER XX. 

CONTAINING A FEW SEASONABLE THOUGHl'S ON BOOKS, 
SERMONS, AND HABITS OF STUDY ; AND A PEEP INTO 
THE rector’s SANCTUM. 

From his earliest life, Mr. Admuller had been 
a diligent student. The shelves of his library 
testified his researches and scholarship, not so 
much in being well filled as well selected. The 
possession of a few books, such as his showed the 
knowledge of many. They were not picked up, 
but picked out, and consisted of the fine old golden 
Church-of-England writers on Theology, to say no- 
thing of literary classics. There were very few 
show books flashing with gilt, but not golden — 
works of book-makers, not authors — dwindling 
modern disquisitions on themes anciently treated 
and thoroughly exhausted — grains of wheat in 
bushels of chaff — ^nor any useless old tomes, lum- 


t 


8T. BAltDOLl'H’s. 


175 


bering folios, with wooden, worm-eaten covers 
and brazen clasps, to clog np lower- shelves and 
imply learning, while by their specific gravity 
they are sunken in a Dead Sea, or rolled over by 
the brighter and more vivacious tide of letters. 
Because a book is merely old, it is not worth 
having, although many appear to think so from 
the eagerness with which they transfer the ruh- 
bish of auction rooms, and cobwebby old cock- 
lofts to their well-varnished Gothic libraries, and 
hug the reamy armful to exhibit for the edifica- 
tion of their friends, asking them if they “ wish 
to see a curious old book.” Tliese look in vain 
for the title-page, examine the quaint old profane 
pictures, it may be, of God, {Korribile dictu /) put 
their noses down to smell the must, and are satis- 
fied. In their satisfaction consists that of the col- 
lectors, who wish by the company which they 
keep to arrogate a little of the sanctity of letters. 

Mr. Pipperell who had four times as many 
books, thought he had four times as good a library 
as the Rector, although it presented a heteroge- 
neous confusion : here a picked-up work of the kind 
just ^mentioned, in loving proximity with a stray 
volume of Tom Jones, kept in countenance at a 
little distance by Harvey’s Meditations, Alleine’s 
Alarm, and Baxter’s Saint’s Rest, wliile the latter 


176 


THE KECTOR OF 


were in turn put to the blush by the farces of the 
un devotional Foot. 

Mr. Admuller’s library, such as it was, cost him 
much money, and much self-denial ; and especi- 
ally among the poorer clergy, a collection of books, 
such as they imperatively need, is a severe exac- 
tion cn their scanty pittances, for they are only to 
be bought at high prices, and every volume is 
suggestive of something less pleasant, if not less 
jirofitable, than its contents. Tliose works of 
golden-mouthed Jeremy Taylor, those excellent 
editions of Drs. South, and Barrow, Hall, and 
Fuller, that rare copy of St. Augustine, represent 
some coat threadbare, some hat shockingly bad, 
some pleasant journey foregone, some temporary 
gratification forfeited. Nay, the Bector of St. 
John-in-the-Wilderness carried the point a little 
farther, for in order that he might possess a good 
edition of the Fathers in the original, he made a 
compact with his old horse to go without oats for 
six months. “ And surelie,” says Bartoldus, (for 
I must occasionally be quoting my old friend and 
favorite, the possession of whose MSS., which 
have never yet, except in these pages, been com- 
mitted to print, I consider among the greatest 
treasures in my own scanty library,) “ surelie it is 
better to wear a threadbare cassock than to luck 
material and illustration wherewith to clothe j* 


8T. BARDOLPIl’s. 


m 


mind’s tlionglits. For y* most originall discourse 
sure to be jejune enough without y® help of other 
authours, and what our ministrations worth in fact 
without y® pith and marrow of y® olden divines, 
who have such rare art in y® compress of rare 
learnyng? Not till this daie cease I to lament y® 
loss of Bildery de Argonaut^ burned in y* confla- 
gratioun on Woodlawn Heath, some six years 
agone. And surelie it is better to go without 
strong meat and live on herbes than to want nu- 
triment for y® mind, and above all thynges in pa- 
rochial discourses, how much varietie of learning 
is essential to foil y® casuist, or y® infidel with his 
own weapons.” 

Nothing can be more sensible than the above 
remarks of Bartoldus, and, indeed, if parishes 
knew, or would consider the necessity and value 
of books to him whom they expect to administer 
to them in sacred things, they would regard these 
as indispensable as a parsonage, and seek to supply 
his library as well as his larder. But it is lamen- 
table to think that among the unlettered, or even 
moderately learned, what is called “ head work” 
is regarded no worJc^ and, of course, no work can 
be performed without tools. Your good-natured 
farmers, mechanics, and day-laborers ; — in the 
city, your good-natured merchants, regard the 
work of composition as no tax, and the preparation 
8 * 


178 


TUE RECTOK OF 


for it insignificant, and not worth mention. “ As 
yon liave plenty of spare time, come and see us 
often.” The question is, whether pulpit ministra- 
tions are an extremely important, not to he neg- 
lected part of parochial duty. If that he granted, 
you have the word of every parish priest that to 
make them subservient to the end of preaching, 
involves excessive, anxious toil, as well as ample 
materials. At the risk of being considered tedious 
or impertinent, I shall transcribe a few ideas on 
this topic, taken from one of the many note books 
kept by the Rector of St. Bardolpii’s : for he made 
it a part of his daily business to jot down, as tliey 
occurred, the loose thoughts, suggestions, or inci- 
dents of each day, to be incorporated in his future 
discourses, or to be used as occasion required. I 
think that they are worthy of preservation ; for a 
truer man, a better scholar, a more consistent, 
devoted Churchman and Christian gentleman, was 
not to be found at that time in the diocese oTNew 
York. 

“ For when I sit down to indite a sermon 

for the next Lord’s day,” he says, “ the thougli i 
almost paralyzes my hand, that what I attempt f jr 
this one occasion is of more serious moment than 
any thing in whicli I have been engaged, wiiile 
every new occasion serves only to deepen the im- 
pression. If I l\ad an important messaixe to con- 


ST. BARDOLPH S. 


179 


vey from man, it would be responsibility enough 
to convey it with truth, swiftness, and pre- 
cision. Eut to preach the everlasting gospel of 
Christ ! Oh ! if mere scribbling, an unhallowed 
heart, undigested themes, crude thoughts, bad 
style, or an attempt at glitter and paltry show, were 
ever out of place, it is in these messages which the 
angels of the churches bear. Discarding even 
thoughts like these, still I find this recurring: task 
more arduous than the thoughtless would imagine, 
or than my own powers could perform, how 
to adapt my teaching to each new occasion, when 
each appears to be a crisis of itself. After several 
hours of painful consideration, when most people 
might suppose that I was idling away my time, 
and doing nothing, having selected a text suitable 
to the day or festival, as well as to the wants of the 
parisli, or imminent necessity, I am at a loss to 
present it in all its richness, fullness, and glory. 
How clear and transparent should be the medium 
to gather into one focus the flood of light which 
streams from the Sun of Righteousness !” 

The success of Mr. Admuller’s pulpit ministra- 
tions, next to the ardor and depth of his piety, arose 
from the constancy and diligence of his study. 
Without this, no man will find his level so soon 
in any vocation as in the sacred ministry. There 
are those, who shed abroad a transitory blaze, and 


180 


THE RECTOR OF 


reach a dangerous eminence, lured into an over- 
weening opinion of themselves by the jprestige of 
position, by the fondling flatteries of young ladies 
and aged women. And they scarcely know how 
to account for the seeming injustice which after- 
ward consigns them to obscurity as men of ordinary 
parts. 

When the bloom and freshness of their youthful 
cheeks are soon faded, and those flery, random 
words wherewith they used to captivate are no 
longer becoming to maturer age, they fall sadly 
into disrepute for want of substance, while some 
new aspirant comes up to gather the*empty honors 
which they have left behind. A gadding sj)irit, a 
dislike of study, a dependence on their superficial 
powers, brings their hope of usefulness to an early 
end. In Holy Orders, even the old man is comijelled 
to keep up, in the close seclusion of his closet, the 
like habits of unintermitted study which he had in 
youth, and because he does it not, is why so many 
whose intellectual powers should be at their height, 
are already considered as “ superannuated,” and 
undone. Other causes, as will be shown, such as 
unpopularity, may have the same effect, to cast 
one into obscurity and disrespect. But where a 
vigor and efficiency of ministration still remain, 
we defy you to point out an instance where age is 
not considered rather a blessing than a curse. 


ST. bardolph’s. 


181 


The patriarchal form, the silvery head, are wel- 
come ever by the hearth-stone, by the wayside, or 
in the assemblies ; but dearer still, when standing 
near the consecrated altar, or from the sacred desk, 
as with an apostle’s voice there is expounded 
to listening ears the experience of the Christian 
soldier and the sage. We love to see the vener- 
able Bishop, step by step, as if he went toward 
heaven, ascend to the pulpit, where, as he lifts 
his hands in benediction, the gentle Dove, (emblem 
of Heaven’s peace) which lighted once upon the 
Saviour’s form, invisibly or in actual shape, comes 
down to rest upon him.* 

The Kector of St. Bardolph’s, in accordance 
with his own views thus expressed, spent much 
labour upon his compositions, nor was the first dis- 
course which had so called forth the plaudits of 
Sir John Staples, and pleased the people of that 
parish, a crack sermon jpar excellence^ as any re- 
putation which he had gained in this way was not 
yet lost. It is true that there are those who are 
rich in the possession of one such crack discourse, 
and who being aware of its super-excellence, 
always put it in their portmanteau, and where- 
ever they travel from pillar to post, deliver it as 
if it were span-new. But the fame of it reaches 
farther than they perhaps imagine. 

* See a passage in the Life of Bishop Griswold. 


182 


THE RECTOR OF 


“So you have had our worthy Rector to preach 
for you of late ?” 

“Yes” 

“ Y''hat sermon did he give you ?” 

“Jonah’s Gourd.” 

“ Humph ! — I thought so. We told him that it 
was the best that he had ever delivered. Since 
that the benefit of it is co-extensive with his 
travels. But it is the only tolerable discourse 
which the poor man has. He is in the long run 
the most hum-drum preacher I ever heard.” 

How the author of this sermon called Jonah’s 
Gourd, was always affected to tears at his own 
discourse, we suppose, on the principle, si vis me 
Herepi'imum fiendum est tihi. If you wish your 
audience to be touched, try and shed a few tears 
yourself. Perhaps it was an infirmity of the good 
old man that his feelings should be so stirred to 
mutiny by his own eloquence. But if tears de- 
scended as plentiful as dews of the night on 
Jonah’s Gourd, the channel of his ordinary dis- 
course was really uncommonly dry. He con- 
tributed no more capital to his general stock. His 
eyes were weak, and reading, he said, with a sigh, 
almost out of the question — although he managed 
to digest the newspapers very thoroughly. Yes, 
and his head troubled him, he could not write. 
Tlierefore he must be content with the inter- 


ST. bardolph’s. 


183 


est of Ills stock of learning, never acquiring new 
information, so that the more restive and disre- 
spectful of his hearers did not scruple to call him 
a terrible old bore. As to Jonah’s Gourd, that 
was the prolusion of some happy moment — the 
last brilliant flicker of his latter-day glory, — done 
by the last drops of oil ever consumed in his 
study, where all the inkpots had been long since 
dry. For his house was as destitute of writing 
materials, with the exception of a few half sheets 
of old yellow paper, with rough edges, as the 
houses of some merchants, who refer'you to their 
counting-rooms for red-ruled foolscap and deep 
pools of ink in leaden fonts. Nevertheless, with 
what a freshened air did he ascend the steps of 
some strange pulpit, and with what infinite 
zest, with already moistening eyes, did he take a 
comprehensive glance of the congregation, after 
having read “that passage of Scripture which we 
have selected for our improvement on this occa- 
sion And the Lord God prepared a gourd and 
made it to come up' over Jonah^ that it might he a 
shadow over his head^ to deliver him from his 
grief. 

Tlie Fectorof St. Bardolph’s had also weak eyes, 
and showed the first symjfioms of bronchial affec- 
tion, but he did not therefore relax his studies, as 
fiis more precarious health seemed to require. 


184 - 


THE EECTOK OF 


His means of relaxation since taking Orders liad 
been few and simple. He at one time took a 
pride in keeping an excellent garden, and in vic- 
ing with the neighbours in fruit and early vegeta- 
bles. In the spring of the year he would some- 
times put a few religious books in his pocket to 
distribute on the way, and following the example 
of his especial friend, the contemplative Izaak 
Walton, stray off into the meadows with rod and 
line, to captivate a few trouts in their favorite 
pools and recesses. With the shyest and most bash- 
ful of these he had a persuasive art which seldom 
failed to win them to his net. While others were 
flagellating the stream, shaking the bogs, indulg- 
ing in a loud discursive dialogue, and catching 
nothing, he fore-shortening his figure at a distance 
from the brink, dropped a worm silently into some 
cool eddy and slipped a wriggling fish into his 
bag. Occasionally these baffled fishermen would 
cry out, “ see how the parson is catching them !” 
and then in a few minutes cross over and take 
their stand by his side. Tlien exchanging places 
with them he would occupy their deserted posi- 
tion, and as the largest trout yet caught, with an 
outcry of admiration on their part, flashed in mid 
air, he would quietly embasket the same, and bid 
them good morning! 

Another source of relaxation was found in those 


ST. bardolph’s. 


185 


social relations wliicli spring up between a efer- 
gyman and his flock, wherein it is harder to esta- 
blish an impartial conduct, and to satisfy unrea- 
sonable demands, than to gratify with “crack ser- 
mons” and ne plus ultra preaching. If one is 
reserved, he is observed to carry his head too 
high ; if he is of a festive disposition he may 
transcend the limit of that sobriety which is con- 
sistent with a stiff, starched neck-cloth, and a 
crow-black coat : so that the only luxury of this 
kind allowed the clergy is an occasional genuine 
ha ! ha ! and in this it must be allowed that they 
sometimes indulge to an obstreperous degree. 
And who indeed would begrudge it as a remedy 
for diseased bronchial tubes ? Tliat they should 
ever be guilty of it on serious occasions would be 
incongruous and without excuse; but we suppose 
it may now and then be vouchsafed to this very 
solemn-looking class of people on the serving up 
of some fatted calf. 

Tlie above resources served the Rector as a set- 
off to his severer studies. But although he never 
lost his fondness for any, he restricted himself in 
all. "When, the extensiveness of his garden re- 
quired too much expense or labor, and his potatoes 
became afflicted with disease, he inclosed it in a 
narrower fence, while his wife never neglected the 
flowers which clustered about the porch. When 


iSG 


THE EECTOK OF 


his vernal recreation among the trout gave occa- 
sion for exercising the wagging tongues of those 
who think it a duty to be dogging the heels of a 
clergyman, and poking their insinuative noses 
into his private affairs, he very inconsiderately 
threw down tlie rod and gave up a recreation so 
innocent and required by his health. “ Yerilie,” 
says Bartold, “ fysshynge occassionally is a most 
proper pursuit for clericals, and by no means to 
be classed with Fowlyng or Fox-hunting. When 
I see one of my cloth sitting contemplative in 
shady Nook a-fysshynge, it remind me of Old 
Tymes, it Be so associated witli Holy themes. But 
when I see one galloping about Avith your red- 
coated gentry, and with y° yelping hounds leap- 
ing fences and putting y® whole Countrie into 
Confusyon, I think he be a Shepherd out of place, 
and what devotionall thoughts he must have when 
he come to Evening Prayers. Tlie echo of y® 
horns and Hounds will still go up and vex his 
Ears in y° midst of those Prayers, as if, saith 
Shakespere, 

Another chase were in the sky.’ 

When the Hector also found in the frequency 
of his social visits to his flock, and in the multi- 
plicity of tea-drinkings annually made, that there 


DT. BAED0LPH8. 


137 


were some wlio filled his cleric ear with flying 
rumonr, evil report, and confidential communica- 
tion of the like kind, he first afiected deafness, 
then placed his finger to his lip, and his palms to 
his ear-drum, and, last of all, knocked off the sti- 
mulating herb tea from the catalogue of luxuries, 
and confined himself to fiirict parochial visiting — 
a course of conduct whicli gave occasion to the 
remark that he was becoming more morose and 
did not cultivate the acquaintance of his peoide. 
He, however, devoted himself more to their in- 
terests by sinking into his study arm-chair, and by 
spending many hours of his daily life in those lu- 
cubrations whereby he sought to edify the little 
flock which God entrusted to his earn. 


i 


1S8 


kectok of 


C’H^ PTEE XXI. 

MR. A ryx J IFR VERT INNOCENTLY rREACIIES A SEK« 
MON WHICH IS CONSIDERED PERSONAL AND GIVES 
OFFEJNCE, with an account of the SUBSEQUENT AN- 
NOYANCES EXPERIENCED THEREBY SOME REMARKS 

ON THE SUFFERINGS OF THE CLERGY THE CHAR- 

ACTER OF MRS. SPANGLES. 

I OBSERVE by book catalogues that there is an 
English work entitled “ Sufferings of the Clergy.” 
It is not to be found on my own poverty-stricken 
shelves, whose contents exhibit the promiscuous- 
ness which I have sneered at as a feature in Mr. 
Pipperell’s. I am not able to lay hands on it at 
present, but am informed that it. treats of the mel- 
ancholy days of the English Commonwealth, when 
canting hypocrisy and fanaticism, “ hastening from 
one degree of injustice to another, to a universal 
anarchy, consummated the ruin of the ecclesiasti- 
cal constitution.” 


ST. baedolph’s. 


189 


Kot only were tlie best sensibilities wounded 
by the defacement of many dear and venerable 
monuments, and the people deprived of the reli- 
gious worship to which they were attached. Many 
clergy were ejected from their livings, to abide 
the peltings of that adverse and pitiless storm 
which then beat. They betook themselves to 
what callings they could to save tlieir families 
from death ; and some, like Herrick, gifted with 
literary tastes, wandered from their quiet pastures 
to London, the great heart of the world, where 
they made a shift to get along. Whatever has 
been written concerning these trials, the half has 
never been told. Tliey were, no doubt, more 
easy to be borne by faithful and true men, on ac- 
count of their very weight. The heart yields with 
sighs and tears to minor ills, and girds itself with 
staunch resolution when there is something hard 
to be borne. Tlie petty annoyances which beset 
the clergy, are, perhaps, little known, and have 
been less recorded. Tlie small, barbed arrows of 
contumely, the casual stings coming they know 
not whence, bruises and blunt blows, the crushing 
foot of vulgarity or pride, are matters of utter 
silence on their part, not of loud complaint. The 
internal corroding, worrying care, is only to be 
divined by the somewhat sunken, sallow cheek, 
or deep furrows on the brow. The continual and 


190 


THE RECTOR OP 


unpleasant espionage to wliicli their lives are 
subject, the indignities which their families are 
obliged to share, coupled for the most part with a 
state of abject dependence, call upon them always 
for the humility of Christians, and sometimes for 
a creeping, crawling servility, umvorthy of the 
dignity of men. They who have wives, and dear 
children, can ill afford to stand erect, if there are 
those who expect them to crouch nearly double ; 
and sad to say, the most gained by this attitude is 
a precarious toleration, not respect. “ AVhen I 
first entered into Holy Orders,” said the Rev. Mr. 
Singleton, as he was one day after evening prayers 
conversing in the Rector’*s library, “ I began to 
examine seriously whether I could possibly adopt 
certain popular views, instead of those set forth in 
the Pra3’er-Book. F or my own peace, and that of 
my family, I did not wish to be shifting from 
pillar to post. Some person who gave a little 
more money than tlie rest in a parish, would be 
sure to take offence and make the position uncom- 
fortable, and there would be no remedy but to de- 
part. In honesty and sincerity I could not change 
my vieAvs, nor speak a different language than the 
Church spake. 'Whereupon, I have added the 
drudgery of schoolmaster to my vocation.” 

“That is the very thing,” said the Rev. the 
Rector of St. John-in-the-Wilderness, who had in 


8T. BARDOLPII S. 


101 


the mean time entered, “ which my people have 
long wished' me to do, and I will do it not.” 

“ Wherefore ?” said Mr. Singleton. 

“Because I hold that the vocation is separate, 
and one must have a distinct call to it. My vows 
forbid it. I am precluded from the training up of 
intellects by the cure of souls. No man can follow 
two callings at the same time without injury to 
either ; in fact, without great injustice to both. 
The very demand arises out of lukewarmness, in- 
dilfeience, and contempt, and ignorance of sacred 
things. The yielding to it promotes and cherishes 
the same. How then, can I magnify mine office ? 
I wish to teach niy people that an attendance on 
divine services is something more than that which 
mere decency requires — that it is their duty not 
only to be not heathen^ but Christians ; tliat if 
they come driving up to tlie church just in timo 
to hear a sermon, which they do not listen to, once 
a week, and drop a penny in the plate, the devil 
may yet have some hold on them for the week to 
come ; that they have not done as much as is in- 
cumbent on them if they penuriously support ‘ a 
parson,’ while they are rolling over in wealth, and 
engrossed in earthly things ; that, indeed, mine 
office is not a mere sinecure, taxing but a few 
hours once a week, without labor, without care, 
without responsibility, when they do, in fact, hold 


192 


TITB KECTOR OF 


me responsible for many things, and when I am 
responsible for them at the present time, and shall 
be at the Day of Judgment.” 

Mr. Singleton shook his head and gave the 
argument to Mr. Biuckley, with an intimation 
that the avowal of his sentiments out of doors 
would do no good, and would not mend the mat- 
ter. To speak independently hardly consisted 
with being dependent. The voluntary system 

“ In spite of wiseacres,” replied the former, “ is 
fraught with as much evil as any other system. 
Those who are fierce to destroy, seldom substitute 
anything better. Taking things as they are, must 
one totally succumb ? I think it is better to re- 
sist before doing it.” 

“ I doubt that,” said Mr. Singleton, “ unless 
you can show clearly the advantages of defeat. 
Let us avoid strifes betwixt the clergy and the 
laity. You must win them to the support of true 
principles — you cannot force them. I cannot 
yield my principles. I must not, if a crisis should 
come, be dependent on them for my daily bread. 
Therefore, I succumb to the voluntary principle — 
submit to necessity, and am a schoolmaster.” 

“Which I am not,” said Mr. Blnckley, walking 
up and down the study with his hands behind his 
back, “ and which I will not be until, for the rest 
of my days, I become nothing else. It is enough 


<5T. BAKDOLPU’S. 


193 


f^'P tne, at present, to attend to the sick, to bury the 
dea<.!, to visit the widows and fatherless in their 
affiiction, and to keep myself unspotted from the 
world : to study the T]pistle and Gospel for the 
next Lord’s Day, and derive therefrom suitable in- 
struction for the people under my charge. Am I 
to turn my house into a nursery, that my people 
may have the w’orth of their money out of me, get 
their noisy, unruly children, (brats, I should rather 
say,) out of their own way for five or six hours 
every day, and thrust them into mine ; to tax my 
strength, to try my patience, and unfit me for 
parish duties when the Sunday comes ? Am I to 
do all this without benefit to myself, and wdth 
absolute injury to my office, and with no thank, 
fulness, and only contempt from those whom I 
benefit, and who really appear to have no souls to 

There was something very earnest in Mr. Binck- 
Icy’s protest against this double exaction, which 
may be numbered among the sufferings of the 
clergy. For there are multitudes of limping, ill-sup- 
ported parishes in tho country, wdiose incumbents 
roly upon the profession of a schoolmaster a,s their 
main resource. For them, school hours taVj tho 
r.laco of hours canonical, the crook is exchano:e<l 
the birch, the solemn tollLvg of the boll which 
eoalff; to prayew, io cenfoupdod witlx j>rofa:ir. t'j'Afn 

9 


194 : 


THE EECTOE OF 


nabnlations ; for the Fathers, they substitute Iho 
heathen classics, and tliey only put off the surplice 
on Sunday to assume the garb of Squeers on a 
Monday morning. In a few years their tastes be- 
come seduced and secularized, because they are 
mainly devoted to secular things, and at last, 
closing tffe church-doors, they betake themselves 
to some quiet part of the country, “ very healthy 
— easily accessible by stages or by steamboat — 
sufficiently remote from temptations — having the 
advantages of so many churches — where they will 
be happy to receive into their families a dozen 
boys, whose intellectual and religious training 
will be duly attended to.” Such is the end of all 
those higher aspirations which they cherished in 
the ardour of their youth, when they were invested 
with an inalienable office, and heard the Bishop 
Eay — “ Take thou authority to execute the office ol 
a Priest in the Church of God, now committed to 
thee by the imposition of our hands, and be thou 
a faithful dispenser of the wmrd of God, and of His 
Holy Sacraments; In the name of the Father, and 
of the Son, and of the ILdy Ghost. Amen.” 
Have they any right to interchange these func- 
tions widi otheis, or to desist from them alto- 
getiier? Certainly not, unless the Church says 
that she has not need of them — which she virtually 
does. 


ST. bakdolph’s. 


195 


As to Mr Bincklej, he was so wretchedly sup- 
ported, and withal gave so much offence by his 
queeiTiesses, his roughness, and by his refusal to 
Tcec]) a school^ that he was afterw'ards fain to give 
up the old rusty keys of the church into his peo- 
ple’s hands, when they managed to find some 
minister who would do it. lie so far followed the 
example of Mr. Singleton, as to become an “ in- 
structor of youth but as he said, it was for the 
end of his days, and as he wielded the birch with 
a vig(»rous and unparalysed hand, he laid aside 
his shepherd’s crook, considering himself ex ojfido 
disqualified from its farther use. 

Kow, this anxiety of precarious dependence, 
and absolute forfeiture of })lace, the moment that 
one has given unintentional offence to contuma- 
cious vestries, or some overbearing churchwarden, 
acts with a constant corrosion on a large body of 
refined and educated clergy, and these evils had 
become much aggravated after the Rector of St. 
Bardulph’s had been :n orders twenty-five years. 
To take “ no thought for the morrow,” if considered 
in its proper sense, is surely not inconsistent with 
that keenness of anxiety for one who, in the ad- 
vance of years and decadence of popularity, is 
forced to think of a family to be cast iinpo'^erished 
and helpless on the charity of the world. Charity 
Whither has that mild, benignant form swept with 


THE KECTOK OF 


lUG 

her angelic garments out of the very temples 
of God, which ought to be her dwelling-place? 
If the ministers of God be indeed responsible 
for errors, for short-comings, and for the non-tulfil- 
Dient of sacred vows, will not thf. people take 
shame to themselves on account of want of 
allowance, for that absolute cruelty with which 
they sometimes treat their clergy, when tlieir 
hair becomes silvered, wdien their voice palls, 
when their peculiarities become, perhaps, objec- 
ticnable, and when to all this they add the griev- 
ous ou'ence, for tl-oce in their menial jiositions, 
of presuming to luve nn opinion of their own. 
Yes, for those in '^heir menial positions! Strange 
to L'ay, and it is enough to ma,ke the blood boil in 
sa^’ing it, they must submit their opinions on points 
of theological doctriiio, tc some ignoramus of a 
squire, who has never directed his thoughts to 
Theology, and w’ho, sooth to say, does not in his 
heart care one fig about it. 

These, however, are merely the minor snflTerings 
of the clergy, probably not at all mentioned in the 
book referred to; the mere, common, every-day 
endurances of those who, having the spirit of their 
Master, should not complain. 

All this, however, is drawing my attention from 
what I was going to tell. That is, that the Eector 
one Sunday gave very unintentional offence, lie 


ST. baedolph’s. 


197 


brd performed the usual services, and preached a 
Dtirring sermon, worthy of the days of the knight, 
the ijAt of which was selected from the Epistle for 
tlie day. Tlie attention of the people had been 
profound ; the few veteran snorers who, as an 
estiblished habit, or from lethargic dullness, had 
for many years enjoyed their Sunday riap at St. 
Bardolph’s, kept jerking up their beads at the risk 
of their necks. It was noticed that one old gentle- 
man, who had never been seen in the house of 
God except in a comatose state, and whose perqui- 
site it appeared to be to sleep sweetly under “ gos- 
pel sermons,” was now wide awake ; while the 
privileged number of those who were wont to keep 
their heads down, sat bolt upright and looked 
directly at the minister. But beyond this good 
attention, the latter went home, and never thought 
particularly of his discourse, but as he was wont, 
began carefully to arrange the groundwork of 
another. Toward the end of the week he was en- 
gaged in finishing what he thus began ; he was, in 
fact, writing in his study, when Mrs. Admuller 
entered, her face somewhat flushed ; 

“ My dear, Mrs. Spangles is in the parlour.” 

“AVell!” he replied, pressing his forehead, 
whether from head-ache, or to call back that 
lively bevy of ideas which are scattered like a 
volley on interruption, and drawing one from his 


198 


THK RECTOR OF 


treasury of pen-wipers, while at the same time 
there was a slight simulation and spasmodism of 
the lines about his mouth, producing not so ami- 
able an expression as that usually worn by the 
Hector of St. Bardolph’s. 

Mrs. Spangles was a woman of considerable 
note, perliaps a better word would be notoriety^ in 
the parish, who had set herself up to be the suc- 
cessor of the late Mrs. Vosselingen. But she had 
all tlie faults, and few of the good traits of that 
remarkable old' lady ; who, although ill-informed 
in theological topics, by no means a clear logician, 
strong in prejudice, was at the least sincere in her 
intentions, not persevering or vindictive in her 
displeasure, and generous in the disbursement of 
her wealth. Being dead, there were many who 
had cause to call her memory blessed. Mrs. Yos- 
selingen had also the impress and prestige of true 
respectability, which, coupled with whatever 
boldness, irregularity, masculine strength, or ec- 
centricity of character, provoking remark in 
the well-established, acknowlerlged rules which 
govern polite people, could hardly go amiss. Mrs. 
Spang'cs was deficient in this respect. She was 
ambitious to be considered as good as any ; but 
the more her endeavors were directed to that end, 
her essential vulgarity glared out. She had an 
acrirc ''uious temper, a sharp, vinegar aspect, and 


STJ . BARDOLPIl’s. 


199 


witlial, a vile tongue, which, by perpetually wag- 
ging, did a deal of mischief. Mrs. Spangles was 
a bustling, buzzing, troublesome busy-body, talk- 
ing every where of every body, and well of erne 
If she had not the figure of meek and inobtrusive 
piety, as may be conjectured, she was, notwith- 
standing, a great religionist, an eager, active cc- 
worker in all business wliich concerned the 
Church, and by far more talkative on religious 
doctrine, and by far more ignorant, than the late 
Mrs. Vosselingen. Of the letter she professed to 
know much, but of the spirit she exhibited little.’ 
In vain she kneeled with an apparent, ostensible 
devmtion ; in vain she rivalled, in her contribu- 
tions of banl? bills in the plate, the very richest; 
she would be at her old trick of gossiping as 
soon as Church was out, dodfjinjj about in her fine 
silks among the tomb-stones of the good and holy, 
and supplanting the principles of divine things 
with the more prolific seeds of abominable scan- 
dal. The portraiture of such a person must needs 
be drawn with very sharp lines, and almost makes 
the painter wicked. lie gathers a portion of acri- 
mony from the fiice before him, and does injus- 
tice to his own soul in a futile attempt to fiatter. 
Such a woman is a real pest to a minister’s wife, 
and enough to set a parish in a hubbub. To 
speak the lung’s old English, by way of chanp^i-- 


200 


THE RECTOR OE 


which is a great refreshment to the organs of 
speech, as well as a relief to type-setters who print 
the modern vernacular — the sooner that the stone- 
cutter is invoked for such a personage, the better. 

It is certain that Mr. Admuller did not wish to 
see her, for her ordinary conversation was only 
worthy of reproof, while the most indirect hint of 
it made her face white and ashen with anger. He 
knew that she wanted to fill his ear with bitter 
things, while he always stood aloof with cool 
reserve, and refused to be made a confidant. If a 
gossipping woman is worthy of reproof, a man- 
gossip is most detestable, and a clerical gossip the 
worst of all. Still there are those who, instead of 
being in their studies, go bobbing about a parish 
to whisper their grievances, into the ears of old 
ladies, and to receive a share of personal confi- 
dence and condolence in return; thus sowing- the 
seeds of that evil report which they are bound to 
deprecate, weakening the bonds of true respect, 
diminishing their office, laying up for themselves 
wrath against that day of wrath which will inevita- 
bly overwhelm them when what they have said 
shall be traced back to themselves. Beside all 
this, they make. the field most uncomfortable wdien 
a true, manly successor shall come after these old 
grannies of clergymen. 

Mr. Admuller was not, indeed, very glad to hear 


8T. BAEDOLPIl’s. 


201 


of the arrival of Mrs. Spangles. Still, he rose from 
his seat with a want of alacrity, arranged his 
papers, took off his morning gown, and forthwith 
prepared himself for the lady’s presence. 

“ You have given grievous offence by your last 
Sunday’s sermon,” said Mrs. Admuller. 

“ It was very far from my intention,” replied 
her husband. 

“ Mr. Williwillow’s family consider themselves 
insulted, and will never enter the church. again.” 

We must add, that a local feud had been for 
some time increasing, whose history is of too 
trifling importance at present to record. It threat- 
ened to end in one of those mimic wars which in 
small communities are carried’ on by fierce looks, 
flashing glances, uptossed heads, disdainful silence, 
and sometimes characterized even by wordy col- 
lisions. These petty affairs, which the outside 
barbarians giggle at, are of as much moment to 
the parties concerned as the Wars of the Eoses. 
In the stacking of the belligerent arms, we think 
there are rather more fans than walking-sticks, 
although an occasional cane is brandished. Fine 
dinner parties, gay balls, social gatherings of the 
Quality, are abandoned while the storm lasts, 
which is not until the people get disgusted with 
stormy weather, when the sunshine, at first faint, 
finally breaks through the mist with former bright- 
9 * 


202 


THE KECTOR OF 


ness. After that, tliey keep a careful watch on 
the salt-cellars, so that no salt is unguardedly split; 
otherwise fresh tumult is sure to ensue. Tii fact, 
if the truth must be told, the origin of nearly all 
these social feuds is the spilling of a little salt, 
which being of such common use, it is difficult to 
avoid. Let us call to mind, however, that the 
domestic experience of ages has revealed a coun- 
tercharm to repair the damage. Let a little of the 
upset salt be flung over the left shoulder, or cast 
crackling in the Are — all will be well. 

These strifes, however, when begun, adjust 
themselves better than they can be adjusted. The 
most delicate diplomacy may alone venture to ap- 
proach the parties, and the dreadful scratches 
experienced by your clerical intermeddlers may 
be added to the catalogue of “ minor sufferings.” 

“ What for,” says my old friend again, “ have I 
to doe with y® combattants, save to proclaim mes- 
suage of peace and good will to all. But and if I 
incline to one side or to y® other, with y® vain hope 
of putting them asunder, then I be forthwith 
charged with siding, and blame ensue. Unplea- 
santnesses not unfrequent in my parish, but though 
1 be very stringent in my admonitions of charitie, 
in y® pulpitt, I do otherwise, from a wise policie, 
mixed up with some experience, keep out off 
y* waie, fearing lest my own Angers be burned ; 


BT. BARDOLPh’s. 


203 


lest r do no good, and my usefulness brought to an 
end; which God forbid. Blessed be y® peace- 
makers, sayth our Divine Master, and I doe 
verilie believe, accursed be y* mischief-makers, 
and those who from their petty feelings engender 
strife.” 

But what am I about, in thus retarding my 
slender story, in ceasing to finish this topic, or have 
I forgotten that Mrs. Spangles is waiting in the 
parlour ? The Rector entered courteously, as he 
was wont, but gravely fixing his large, black eyes 
on the lesser orbs of Madam Spangles, sat down 
beside her, and after she had uneasily rustled in 
her silks awhile, and clicked the clasps of her 
reticule, she entered on the object of her mission : 

“ How came you,” she said, with an equivocal 
smile, “ to be so very severe on our friends, the 
Williwillows, last Sunday?” 

“ Madam, explain yourself more fully.” 

“ Oh, yes” — for in this familiar way she was 
accustomed to talk — “ yon pretend not to know.” 

Mr. Admnller’s eyes flashed with indign.ation, as 
he asked with some severity: 

“ Do you consider me capable of subterfuge, or 
that I would stoop to personality ? I say that I am 
unconscious of making any remarks with reference 
to the Williwillows.” 

“AVell, they think so, and I thought that it 


204 


THE HECTOR OF 


would be an act of friendship to make you awaie 
of the fact. They are going to give up their pew 
in the church, remove their family vault, and if 
they go, you know that many go with them.” 

“I had heard nothing of this before,” replied 
the Rector : “ I am ready to make apology for any 
offence unintentiona;ly given. Nothing could 
have been farther from my mind than any assault 
on the Willi willows.” 

“Probably you might save yourself the trouble 
of explanation. The family are all alike in that 
respect. When they take a dislike they carry it 
to the grave with them. You are aware of the 
cause of the difficulty betwixt them and the 

“Not at all; I have heard nothing of it. To 
such particulars ” 

“ Well, I will inform you, as it will throw some 
light on the present trouble. On Whitsunday, as 
Mrs. Williwillow ” 

“ Excuse me, but we will give these things the 
go-by. I think that you will agree witli me, Mrs. 
Spangles, that such will be the wiser course for the 
present. To do me justice, you must have ob- 
served that I meddle not with family quarrels.” 

“ But do you think it is right, Mr. Admuller, 
when they bring reproach on the Church, and give 
occasion to the Church’s enemies to reproach her ? 


ST. baedolph’s. 205 

Here are these people partaking of the commu- 
nion monthly.” 

“I will do madam, whatever I conceive to be 
right or necessary in the premises. I ask a gener- 
ous allowance for myself wiiereln I transgress, or 
fail to perform my duty. Where I am proved to 
be wrong, I hold myself ready to make the amplest 
reparation.” 

When Mrs. Spangles had gone away, the Rec- 
tor and his wife were really disquieted and un- 
happy. For many years, sometimes marked by 
those occasional misunderstandings which embit- 
ter the current of social life, he had never come 
into direct collision wdth any. On the contrary, 
he had a reputation for steering through the little 
rapids, whii-lpools, and shallows of society, which 
only want a vigilant eye, and somewhat keen tact, 
to enable one to get into the proper channel. 
Otherwise your valuable freightage of comfort is 
wrecked, when you might have passed over the 
shoals, and been floating in quiet waters. Of all 
affliction and disquietude in this vale of tears, that 
of strife is the most bitter and distressing. The 
angry conflict, unkind words, the averted look, 
the consciousness of something wrong, you know 
not what, destroy the pillow of repose. If De- 
struction flap his wings of Are over your earthly 
goods, from the very ashes you recover some jew- 


206 


THE KECTOK OF 


elry and gold. "When you are burying your dear 
ones, tears give relief, and tlie grave has consola- 
tion. If sins oppress, that is between you and 
God, and lie is merciful. But .contention is a 
gnawing worm, and tlie serenest sun in setting is 
bereft of beauty if we let tlie sun go down upon 
our wratli. Ob, for a d^velling on tlie bank where- 
by the stream of social and domestic life flows 
calm, without a ripple ! where tears of grief 
should never swell it to a torrent, nor passions 
make it rough, that flowers cannot be imaged in 
its waves ! So should the beauty of the earth be 
reflected in it, and in the night of death the 
shining heavens be repeated in its bosom, star 
for star. 


BT. BAKDOLPu’s. 


207 


0 


CnAPTER XXIL 

JN 'Pi'HTCH SOME MENTION IS MADE OF THE POOR OF THE 

I' AKISH MONTHLY ALMS THE OLD COUNTRY PEOPLE 

— (ICOASIONAL VISITORS DISPOSED TO BE TROUBLE- 
BOM E THE AGED POOR. 

Every noutli, wlien the IToly Communion was 
a^irr.inistered, the Hector collected the money from 
a massive silver basin. Tin's was the affectionate 
gift of one cf the first wardens, and bore the date 
of 1710, about eight years after the first endow- 
ment of the Church by the Venerable Society. 
Tlie cup and flagon on the altar were from the 
same friend, and these his memorials which were 
kept brightly polished, perpetuated his good deeds 
more than the, marble over his remains, which 
was now moss-grown and defaced. Once every 
month, after morning service, the Rector took that 
money where it was deposited by the sacred em 


208 


THE RECTOR 


blems, and carefully tied tlie same in the corner 
of a white cambric handkerchief. It was not that 
profane collection, if I may so speak, made on 
other Sundays, for wood, oil, lamps, sexton’s 
wages and repairs. For what can be more un- 
couth and incongruous than at tne moment your 
head is lifted up from prayers, to have a plate 
thrust at you for a penny, to say nothing of the 
inkling sound of coppers, which have already roll- 
ed a dozen times on the floor from juvenile hands, 
and have been ferreted out with much moving 
and upsetting of benches. Such harvest might 
better be reaped at some other season than in the 
sunshine of a Sunday morning. Tlie bustle and 
disturbance are almost as great as that of crying 
babies, and children who “ speak out loud,” and 
the only justiflcation alleged is, that it is easy to 
^ procure the aforesaid pennies in this way, and 
difficult to obtain the pounds in any other. Tliere- 
fore, this kind of interlude is still tolerated in 
many churches. I now speak of the monthly alms 
or otferings consecrated to the poor. When the 
hard knot in the corner of the rumpled handker- 
chief was untied, and the money emptied on a 
mahogany table for the better sifting of the little 
bits, the good Rector and his family gathered 
round to count it with as much alacrity as a miser 
tells gold. First came the bank notes, the gift of 


BT BAKWLPh’s. 


203 


those who rode in carriages, some of large denomi 
nation, some of small. 

“Mr. A. put that one in, Mr. B. that. Thej 
always put paper in the plate.” 

A small single pile of half-dollars represented 
the contribution of strangers, who “always li'^eit 
to be supposed that they have plenty of money, 
and are willing to pay for the supposition.” 

“ Hush, my dears,” said the Eector, “ never 
seek to trace a good deed back to an unworthy 
motive^. How much does the charity of these 
liberal strangers overbalance yours.” 

Then came the marshalling of the widows’ mites ; 
small seeds sure of Heaven’s sunshine and a rich 
return. “ Whoso giveth to the poor lendeth to the 
Lord.” 

Apart from the results of crime, there are few 
poor in any of our parishes, scarce any scpialidly 
or abjectly '.vretched. A sense of pride keeps the 
one class from the receipt of alms, and the poor- 
house receives the other. So that in many cases 
the collections of the offertory are not appropriated 
to their specific object, but to one which is col- 
lateral. To have no poor for such money is almost 
as detrimental as to have no money for the poor. 
Tliey are a blessing to the Church, the most valu- 
able elements of the parish. 

If we consult the Holy Scriptures with reference 


210 


THE KECTOK OF 


to our peculiar duty in this resjject, and the re- 
ward promised, it is astonisliing what multitude 
of passages will he found to have a direct hearing. 
It would he im2)ossible to select a theme on which 
more positive light and commandment would he 
shed. For herein is involved the whole spirit and 
essence of the Law and Gospel. The Old and New 
Testament instruct us in many a succinct precept 
and beautiful parable. The rich, however rich; 
are actually bankrupt to the poor, and if the whole 
n' atter could be transferred to Heaven’s chancery, 
the instantaneous decision, we are sure, would be 
a transfer of indebtedness. To the real Christian, 
the poor are a source. of pleasure unspeakably de- 
lightful. From their bosoms well tlxe most crystal 
transparent streams of gratitude. Trodden upon 
by scorn, wounded by your friends, or crushed by 
politic combination, you lift up the refreshed 
head the instant you set foot on their humble 
thresholds, and have been welcomed by their open 
arms, and have seen the tears trickling down their 
faces, and have felt the roughness of those hands, 
more soothing than the softest velvet. The sick 
child, the patriarch of eighty years, leaning on his 
staff on the old, broken porch, the aged woman in 
her bed, the poor black slave in the garret, or in 
the cellar, just ready to die, into whose ears you 
breathe the words of Christian consolation, send 


6T. BARDOLPll’s. 


211 


you away with a portion of that serene heaven let 
down into their own breasts. And when their 
audible ejaculations go u]) for you to the throne 
of Divine grace, you return to your dwellin-^j 
freighted with a richness compared with which 
liereditary estates are as the merest dross. I for 
one would not wish to be rid of such incumbents. 
BO long as they are worthy, but would humbly ask 
for more, that by their thankfulness for a little, I 
may be sensible of my own ingratitude for much ; 
that I may have some stimulus to follow the steps 
of my Divine Master, and go about doing good ; 
that I may learn that every estate of life is e(pal, 
to those who have the spirit of Christ , that the 
rich and the poor meet together ; the Lord is 
maker of them all. 

Among those who required assistance at the 
hands of the Hector of St. Bardolph’s, may be 
enumerated, first, the Old-Country people, who, 
together with Bible and Prayer-Book, their only 
possession, brought with them a strong affection 
to the Church, and usually letters commendatory 
to the minister of the parish. These being able- 
bodied, and making their own living, sometimes 
received alms in case of severe sickness, which 
was not uncommon in our more changeable and 
trying clime. But they thought more of clerical 
advice than most of the laity, so that Mr. Admul 


212 


THE KECTOK OF 


ler’s study sometimes resembled tlie office of a 
counsellor-at-law. For they considered him in- 
fallible as the Pope of Rome, and resorted to him 
ilike in temporal affairs and for spiritual comfort ; 
■whether their children were ill, or their depreda- 
tory pig had broken into their neighbour’s inclo* 
sures and got them into trouble. Indeed he was, 
perhaps, the only person bound to them by an 
acknowledged and sacred tie in a strange land, as 
the clergyman is always the intervening link which 
makes the chain of society unbroken, because 
those who are not equals of each other, alike stand 
on a certain equality with him. Sometimes he 
was a secretary to superscribe their letters, which 
gave the bank-note inclosed to friends at home a 
better chance of reaching its destination. Espe- 
cially is the epistolatory correspondence of the 
poorer peoj)le likely to miscarry, unless it be 
forwarded from port to port under the express 
guardianship of the Saint, or ppst-office officials be 
gifted with the genius of Champollion. At last, 
his time was so broken in upon by tlie Old-Country 
people, that he was compelled to bring such sort 
of temporal business within its proper limits, and 
confine himself for the most part to parochial 
duties, baptizing their children, visiting their sick, 
and burying their dead. 

One class of petitioners I feel bound to mention 


ST. bardolph’s. 


213 


as very troublesome ; because, not belonging to 
tbe parish, they invariably beset the Eector, and 
it was hard to be rid of them. They were itine- 
rating men out of place, sometimes professing to 
be clergymen, fully provided with a letter from 
the Rev. Mr. Nobody knew whom, abroad on some 
mission, which commended them to entertainment 
on their arrival, and money at their exodus. 
They were usually dressed in a suit of black, with 
white neckcloth, and collar high enough to cut 
their ears off. And of many of these prowlers, it 
might be said with justice, that they deserved 
to have their ears off. Sometimes they would 
not be a week gone before they were advertised 
in the papers as impostors. They fastened 
themselves with leech-like tenacity, and as their 
aspect was demure, and their language evan- 
gelical, while it was impossible to decide upon 
their credentials, it needed much firmness to dis- 
miss them; and such firmness, like a taste for 
seme vegetables, could only be “ acquired.” But 
after a time their increasing number, intrusive- 
ness, and the variety of their objects, made it a 
matter of duty to deal with them in a manner ex- 
act and peremptory. The spare bed-room was 
never empty of them : the clerical equipage was 
ousted for their pedlar-like concerns ; they con- 
sumed both time and substance ; their presence 


214 


THE RECTOR OF 


was an inconvenience and an inconceivable bore. 
Mr. Admnller at last knew them by the “ cut of 
their coats,” and did not invite them, while he over- 
hauled their papers, into his shady parlor, where, if 
once seated, they could not be moved, but held his 
official communications with them on his equally 
shady porch, and gave them his valedictory in a 
few words, without any scruples of conscience. 
That he was given to hospitality, has been already 
evinced by his welcome reception of Mr. Cool- 
man ; but hospitality has laws, while necessity has 
none. All of charity does not consist in giving, 
much less in giving to all. To give, if not with 
judgment, is to take away, and immediately to 
obey a good impulse, without reflection, is only in- 
stinct. How painful to be compelled to pause and 
weigh ’ This again inclines the heart to be cold 
ai.d sceptical. What shall we do ? 

A very pleasing class of those who received the 
parish alms, w'ere the aged people who had al- 
ways lived in the bounds of the parish, wdio had 
been baptized in the church, and loved it, and 
who were certainly entitled more than others 
to receive of the few crumbs which fell from their 
Master’s table. Their conversation afforded the 
best biographical sketch of the good men who had 
officiated for the last half century. They would 
remind yon of the excellent traits of the Rev. Dr. 


ST. bakdolph’s. 


2i5 


So and So, and witli what pleasure they listened 
to the words which fell from his lips, and how lie 
used to visit them when sick, and come and pray 
with them. It was a pleasure to see them enter 
the Church on a Sunday morning and sink into 
their retired seats, clasping to their breasts an old 
and well-w’orn prayer-book, the edges of wdiose 
yellow leaves were gone, or wasted almost to a 
razor-like sharpness. How different from the 
white-leaved, gilt-edged, golden-clasped books of 
more modern times, whose blank leaves were 
scribbled over with conversations in pencil. “Are 
you coming to dine with us after Cliurch ?” 
“ Wliat a dull sermon !” “ I wish he would get 

through.” “Did you ever hear such singing!” 
“Look at that man in the gallery.’ When these 
old people returned to their knees, having receiv- 
ed the Holy Communion, they did so perfectly 
overcome, and with an awe and reverence most 
profound. They accepted the alms of the Church, 
with extreme gratitude, whether a small piece of 
gold or silver, or whether a pound of green tea, 
•which they dearly loved, when they pressed it 
to tlieir face, saying it was “lovely,” “God bless 
you.” 

When Mr. Admuller was troubled by the visits 
of such people as Lady Spangles, he recruited 


THE EECTOE OF 


21^5 

himself hy putting a pound of tea in liis coat 
pocket, and by going to see an old body who 
lived over the hill, by a green lane, in an old 
cottage. 


ST. lUKDOLPIl’s. 


217 


CHAPTEE XXni. 

THE WILLIWn.LOWS. 

The people who bore this name were a family ol 
plain farmers, whose ancestors, two hundred years 
since, lived in the same house which they now oc- 
cupied, and which, even still, by careful patching 
and propping, bade fair to stand a century or two 
more. It was pleasantly shaded by old trees, and 
the place took the name of the family, “The Wil- 
lowillies,” sometimes called the “ Williwillows,” 
twin names, just as like as two peas. A very well 
cultivated farm was the "Willi willows, of three 
hundred acres, in the very garden-spot of the 
State, of which many a pleasant nook and fine 
prospect had been desired for the last half century, 
as admirable for a country seat, but they kept the 
whole in pasture, and resolutely refused to sell a 
X single rood. That they were very prudent, and 

even parsimonious, was allowed, but how can you 
10 


21& 


THE KECTOK OF 


account for tliis refusal, when they could have 
realized a dozen fortunes by the disposal of as 
many acres? Probably it was founded on a safe 
and secure principle, the permanency of the soil, 
which is inherited and propagated in the blood of 
many families. The transient boxes and embel- 
lishments of “ merchant princes ” have never yet 
been allowed on one of the clover-grown knolls of 
the estate, and never will be, while the blood 
flows in the veins of the Willowillies. 

Tliat they were very proud is true, although they 
had not a fashionable prestige, and did not appear 
in the gaudier re-unions of Westchester any more 
than the surrounding country farmers. I^ay, 
among the many upstarts of the vicinity they 
afforded often a copious theme for ridicule, but 
they enjoyed as much as any the sentiment that 
they were sprung from a “ clean nest.” And 
they were indeed respectable, and had been for 
two hundred years, and how much longer nobody 
knows. They did not seem to change in family 
traits from generation to generation. Tliey con- 
fined themselves entirely to farming, which they 
followed according to the old traditional rules, 
and paid not the least attention to any new dis- 
coveries in agricultural science. Tliey had never 
been given to letters, and almost the only books 
ever yet found in the old farm-house were a Bible 


ST. baedolph’s. 


219 


and Common Prayer Book. Being Englisli in 
origin, they had from time immemorial been at- 
f..ched to the Church, of which they were valuable 
and sincere members, though apparently very cold 
in religious feelings. They did not take a news- 
paper, had never been candidates for any office, 
the children as they grew up had never entered 
within the w’alls of a college, and only received 
the rudiments of an education in a district school. 
Tlie females of the family were very homely in ap- 
pearance, very silent, very dignified, and sat as 
upright in the old-fashioned chairs as if impaled 
through the spine with an iron rod. The race was 
sufficiently prolific, but in the* course of Divine 
Providence a certain quota died oflf, so that never, 
even among the family, was it necessary to subdi- 
vide the estate too much. Such were the Willi- 
willows — musical name, although not a single one 
of them had an ear for music. 

From his first entrance into the parish, Mr. Ad- 
.muller had known and esteemed this family. 
Many a time had he been invited to “ drink tea ” 
with ti'.em, while his dinners had been hitherto 
limited to the house of Mr. Van Sittart and a few 
others : because in the country a dinner is, as a 
matter of necessity and convenience, a mere shirt- 
sleeve, pork-arc -cabbage meal, en dhhohille, taken 
hurriedly, and swept oft* in the heat of the day, 


^220 


THE RECTOE OF 


whereas a tea is attended with ceremony, and set 
forth with the choicest profusion of cakes and 
sweetmeats. 

Now, when he met these people, their faces 
were averted, they showed symptoms of afiront, 
and he began to have faith in the fidelity of Mrs. 
Cpargles, who, after her visit to the parsonage, 
be it observed, drove in her neat carriage to the 
'W’iliiwillows, and with a somewhat patronizing 
air, communicated much. Oh, Christian Mrs. 
Spangles ! how truthful that remark of yours, that 
some people should not partake of the Holy 
Communion I 

Mr. Admuller took no notice of the conduct of 
his old friends, so inexplicable, but went to see 
them again as usual in the course of his visi- 
tations, when he was received with the silent cus- 
tomary nodding, his horse tied as usual with the 
same hard knot to the post, and the sisters entered 
with the same formal air into the parlor. But 
whereas they could formerly be thawed into a 
faint smile, and some few words of the vernacu- 
lar drawn from them, they remained unmoved 
and immovable. Tlieir stiffness appeared to be 
rr.ore starched, and their upright posture more un- 
bending. They were absolutely unapproachable. 
They never “ opened their heads ” to say that any 
thing was the matter ; but it was too evident that 


ST. BARDOLPir’s. 


221 


tlie •/eTatr’.on of things was disturbed. Tlie Eector 
took rp his hat and sorrowfully bade them good 
bye. He went home and told his reception to 
Mrs. Admuller, whose cheering smile allayed the 
disagreeable feelings of his mind. If a man’s 
conscience cannot comfort him in trouble^ his 
wife jan. But the Eector had a good conscience 
ai-C a good wife : for he was all which I have 
pm’traj'cd him, and his wife even more. In a di- 
dactic discourse or sermon, he himself could per- 
haps provide the better argument, but in cases of 
this kind a woman’s logic is the best. For pro- 
fessional men — I will not call a clergyman merely 
a professional man — are very sensitive to rebutf. 
As much of their recompense is in affection, it al- 
most stops the current of their life-blood if the 
slightest tribute be withdrawn. In the experience 
of other men, disaffection is enough common to 
make them callous : these have been so pampered 
by allegiance as to feel the most insignificant 
sting of ingi’atitude or neglect. How seldom is a 
good faculty of reason applied to topics of this 
kind ! How seldom do those who have strength 
use it to upheave these little burdens ! For a 
wounded spirit who can bear ? One-tenth the in- 
tellect devoted to the analysis of such petty ills 
as is spent to develop a sermon, would dispel in a 
single hour the clouds which lower for a year. 


222 


THE RECTOR OF 


.But tlie strongest men writhe and suffer without 
reflection, when tliey might wear smooth faces 
in tlie daytime, and sleep quietly on their beds at 
night. They actually sink down into inertness, 
and nothing but a mighty grief inspires them 
with energy to bear. The Hector of St. Asaph’s, 
for instance, would remain whole weeks under a 
cloud from the tittle-tattle of his tittle-tattling 
little parish. It was a small collection of disaf- 
fected people, whose magniflcent contributions 
would be enough to clothe him annually in de- 
cent broad-cloth, for which they thought that they 
had a right to consider him as common property ; 
and the Hector of St. Asaph’s would not have 
taken the wealth of the parish, which was con- 
siderable, for the injury which he fancied that 
they did him. He could not go out of his gate 
that some of them were not watching his motions ; 
his remarks were sometimes brought back to him 
distorted : when he meant well they appeared to 
misinterpret him, and where he undoubtedly 
erred they seized upon his conduct with avidity, 
while the annoyance of their surveillance "was ex- 
cessive. But he was weak enough to take it all 
to heart. He would shut up his Church for two 
or three weeks together, imagining that he was ill, 
and sank so low that it required both wardens and 
vestrymen to hold up his arms. He would be 


ST. bardolph’s. 


223 


found in a dark room, tlie very picture of the 
anatomy of melancholy. Half the time he walk- 
ed abroad as if he had Atlas on his shoulders, 
instead of the quarrelsome little parish of St. 
Asaph’s. 

“ Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, 

Muttering his wayward fancies, he would rove ; 

Now drooping, woeful, wan, like one forlorn. 

Or crazed with care, or cross’d in hopeless love.” 

A wife is no Job’s comforter under such cir- 
cumstances. She lends a ready ear to her hus- 
band’s affecting narrative, and revealment some- 
wliat mitigates the pain. It is a comfort to dole 
over one’s ill treatment, where you can find a 
patient ear, which is not common ; for grumblers 
are the most disagreeable of men. 

The Hector’s wife tried to put the best face 
possible on the mysterious conduct of the Wil- 
lowlillies. “ They were labouring under a miscon- 
ception, and would soon be convinced of their 
mistake. They were queer people, and the 
excitement of their feelings only showed the depth 
of' their regard. At all events, this temporary 
dislike would somehow or other be overruled for 
good.” Thus, while more annoyed than her hus- 
band, she treated the matter lightly, but it soon 
became the staple of the parish-talk, and the am- 


224 


the rector of 


brosia of the tea-table. The members of the 
Dorcas Society, as they stitched bachelor’s pin- 
cnshions, omitted the ordinary reading of an 
evangelical sermon or pious book, to discuss its 
origin and bearings ; and the little knots who were 
wont to assemble about the porch on a Sunday 
morning before service, to talk about the weather 
and the crops, whispered ominously together as 
the Kector passed by. Mrs. Spangles was on the 
qui vive. She went from house to house in the 
most sociable way, for fear that there might be 
somebody who had not heard of it, and she said 
“ what a pity it was,” for “ such things brought 
such a reproach upon the Church. They gave 
so much occasion for those who were out of the 
pale to make remarks. Besides that, it would be 
no good thing for the poor man’s worldly interests, 
for she had been informed that the Williwillows 
had been very good to the Adraullers, and sent 
them a great many things at the annual ‘ bees,’ 
which the family could ill spare, for every body 
knew that they were as poor as church mice, 
although they managed to hold their heads up 
pretty high.” 

The Kector seated in his study took down the 
obnoxious sermon, to see wherein its peculiar ap- 
plicability to the Willowillies lay. The paper 
was quite yellow, for it had been written some 


ST. bakdolph’s. 


225 


time previous to the crack sermoUj and passed 
muster several times without remark ; indeed tlie 
only apprehension concerning it was that it would 
be recognized, with the customary remark, “there 
goes another old sermon.” It had, however, the 
unfortunate reputation of being fresh sprung, olfen' 
sively armed from the brain of its author ; for pecu- 
liar circumstances made some breasts peculiarly 
exposed to its sharp points. When universally 
applicable, nobody took it, and now it was alto- 
gether monopolized by a few. But instead of 
/laving a good effect on the only sinners whom it 
had safely reached, they angrily drew out the 
weapon and charged the minister of the parish 
with having aimed a shot directly at them. But 
his intention was even more wicked, as it was, if 
possible, to wound every man, woman and child in 
the congregation. Strange inconsistence of the 
people ! When in the heyday of youthful power, 
he would sometimes set all eyes a-weeping, and all 
hearts bleeding, from the very ranks of dismay 
there was but orm voice of applause for the 
preacher. How, for such slight havoc, they called 
him unkind and cruel. lie had singled out one 
mark, and had directed only one poisoned arrow. 

But what did the Hector of St. Bardolph’s do in 
this emergency ? He walked on in that habitual 
reserve which was natural to him, and which had 
• fO* 


226 


THE EECTOR OF 


always hitherto subjected him to the charge of 
being cold and unapproachable. For as he sat, or 
conversed, hjs introverted look made him appear 
as if his soul had retired far back into some deep 
recess. For a long time he took no notice of this 
untoward event. Where an unintentional misun- 
derstanding occurs, it is often wiser to stand nega- 
tive for the present, lest explanation should only 
thicken the mischief, and with a patient denial 
wait for some happy moment when a dexterous 
word shall fall into the right place, or until it shall 
work its own cure. lie who would rectify an 
error on the spot is apt to stammer and stumble 
and get himself irretrievably involved. Let him 
rather watch tho fortunate juncture when, by the 
spontaneous exhibition of his real feelings, he may 
set the matter right. 


“ Nisi dextro tempore Flacci 
Verba per attentam non ibunt Caesaris aurem, 

Ciii male si palpere, recalcitrat undique tutus.” 

This case, however, was not about to rectify 
itself, nor from the long night of silence was the 
face of good humor likely to beam forth. The 
Willowillies took no more notice of it than Mr. 
Admuller. They had as much reserve as he had, 
but it wore a very dogged and gloomy aspect. If 
he met them singly or collectively their solemnity 


ST. bardolph’s.. 


227 


would Lave been suited to the bordei’S of tbe grave. 
It appeared as if every earthly friend had been 
centred in the minister, and that they had lost 
them all. This avereion, if considered properly, 
might argue a deep-set and flattering esteem. If 
they so regarded the loss of a friend, how must 
they have valued his possession? The moment 
Mr. Admuller saw the real state of the case, and 
had probed the depth of the wound, he appealed 
to no mediators. One pleasant day, ordering his 
carriage at an early hour, he set forth on the un- 
pleasant business of trying to bend the stubborn 
minds of his parishioners, and of making all the 
reparation in his power. He did not doubt of 
being able to accomplish it, and that the cords 
of friendship would only be strengthened by this 
temporary estrangement. It was a summer’s 
morning, and all the blooming earth disposed the 
heart to cheerfulness and peace. The skies above 
were deeply and serenely blue, unsullied by a 
cloud. The birds sang chorally from all their cool 
retreats, the fresh and tender vegetation budded 
forth, the wood-crowned hills seemed beautiful 
with blended shades, and all the charming land- 
scape rich with future hope. Oh ! for the surface 
of a soul as tranquil as the unruffled wave, to take 
these images of the outer world, emblems of love 
and beauty in the Eternal Mind ! 


228 


THE KECTOK OF 


As he pursued his journey his reverie was dis- 
turbed by meeting Mr. Pipperell. The latter 
stopped for a few minutes, and discoursed with 
liim about the unfortunate state of things which 
he said existed ; “ that that sermon of his had 
given great offence, and the consequences might 
prove very serious to him and to the parish. He 
felt sorry that he had been betrayed into a mistake 
of that kind. It was injudicious : it might pro- 
duce a breach which it would take years to repair. 
In the course of his experience he had seen the 
effect of such things. He thought that no time 
was to be lost.” 

The Hector said a few words in reply, and drove 
on. He soon entered on the patrimonial estate of 
the Willowillies. It was in prime order. Extensive 
as it was, not a stone could be picked up in the 
richly cultivated uplands. The grass looked as 
smooth as velvet, the orchards were well trimmed, 
the crops promised a most plentiful yield, and all 
the cattle in the well-fenced fields shone with 
sleekness. It seemed hardly possible, by throwing 
i.i the pebble of his esteem, to bring any nearer 
to its margin the full tide of such a worldly pros- 
perity. If the extent of hajipiness actually ac- 
corded M'ith the possession of the extent of acres, 
there would then be little happiness in the world. 


8T. BAJRDOLPh’s. 


29.9 

Disturbing causes seem to be only added by the 
excess of wealth, and be who has only his quatuor 
jugera — four acres — has four troubles which he 
would otherwise be without. Such was the case 
with the Willowillies, for they were involved in 
litigation which had been productive of hard feeling 
and acrimonious tempers, which, no doubt, made 
them sensitive to reproof. People who seem to 
be blessed with all things, do not take it Avell if re- 
minded that there is any one thing which they 
still lack. Hard by stood the old homestead, itself 
a moral lesson of an impressive kind. How many 
generations, to whom it had afforded shelter, had 
it outlived ! How strange that the humblest taber- 
nacle, which is the wo^k of men’s hands, should 
be more durable than the marvellous temple of the 
body, and that the trees whose branches wave be- 
fore his door, should be green and vigorous in 
many resurrections long after he is mouldering in 
dust. For whoever plants a tree, or builds a 
house, will soon find a satire upon himself. Should 
not this teach him the vanity of all things, but 
more especially the vanity of strife ? Why permit 
our peace to be invaded by any contention, how- 
ever necessary, concerning houses or lands, when 
in a few years we shall be satisfied with a narrow 
house, and with such a limited territory ? 

When Mr. Admuller had made the ancient, 


230 


TriE RECTOR OF 


rusted, bepainted iron knocker give a number of 
monosyllabic raps, which could not be repeated 
in very quick succession, no matter how well oiled 
might be" the wrist, he was ushered with all for’ 
mality into the shaded parlour, furnished with its 
bright carpet, variegated rug, and antique mantel 
ornaments. Long time he waited with commend- 
able patience, amusing himself with any object 
which hapi)ened to be within his reach : some old 
tapestry, a few pictures on glass, some specimens 
of shell-work, and flowers in wax. Then he spake 
to the cat, “here, puss, puss, puss, puss, puss, 
puss.”' Afterward he went out to look at the 
pony, which released from the check-rein, with an 
eager appetite pulled up by the roots with a 
craunching sound the long grass. Then he re- 
turned, and listened to any creaking on the stair- 
way, but was many times deceived. At last, the 
sisters trailed in solemnly, one after the other, en- 
gulphed in sombre meditation, and sat down at a 
vestal distance, formally nodding, but uttering no 
articulate voice. Mr. Admuller inquired for the 
male species. Tliey were in the field and would 
presently come in. He entered for a little while 
on heterogeneous talk, and inquired after their 
health, and made some commonplace remarks, to 
which tliey assented. At last, at high noon, those 
whom he waited for arrived, and shook his hand 


ST. BAJtDOLPH’s. 


231 


with a relaxed grasp. He asked them on what 
account they had taken umbrage at any thing 
which had fallen from his lips. Had he done them 
injury? 

They thought so. 

Tlien he had come to make all the atonement in 
his power, and to assure them that no evil was in- 
tended. Had not his conduct always been, 
friendly? Had he said anything which appeared 
like a direct insult to themselves ? 

They thought so. 

Then he implored them to banish such beliet 
from their minds, and that he entertained as ever 
the kindest regards. Would such declaration be 
sufficient ? 

“ Oh, yes, yes.” 

After a little conversation he shook hands with 
them, with a little warmer grasp, and departed to 
his own home, satisfied that this disagreeable 
difference was at an end. Ilis wife asked him 
how he had succeeded in the object ot his journey. 
His reply was, that he thought, “ very well.” In 
fact he dismissed the subject from his mind, went 
to bed, and slept soundly and pleasantly. This 
little grief was indeed to him a great burden, and 
he was very glad to have it removed. '' 

For several Sundays after this, the Williwillow’s 
pew was vacant. When he inq^uired after them 


232 


THE KECTOR OF 


from any member of tlie family, they were “in- 
disposed,” they were “ engaged,” they bad “ gone 
upon a journey.” “ Did they still tbink any ill of 
him ?” “ Not at all, not at all.” Tims be was by 

no means aware of tbe underground current wbicb 
did not cease to flow from tbe moment tbat it 
gusbed up from tbe bitter fountain ot wounded 
pride, or vanity, or self-esteem, and wbicb still 
continued to pursue its course, blasting all tilings 
ujion its brink. 

One day tbe Hector sat in tbe sacristy, looking 
over tbe records wbicb went back more than a 
hundred years, and examining tbe minutes made 
since bis first institution as tbe Hector of St. Bar- 
dolpb’s. During tbat time many bad been bap- 
tized and received into tbe Cburcb on eartb: 
many bad gone to tbe fellowsbip of tbe saints in 
beaven. Presently be strayed tbrougb tbe cburcb- 
yard, and stood musing for a moment at tbe grave 
of Miss Clemantbe. Then taking a turn, be ob- 
served tbe sexton bard at work, throwing up the 
ground in tbe burial-place of tbe Willo willies. 
On drawing near and inquiring if any of the 
family bad suddenly died, be was informed “ no 
one.” 

Good Heavens ! for an imaginary pique they were 
tumbling out tbe bones of their ancestors, wbicb 


3T. BARDOLPH'S. 


233 


had been inhumed for two hundred years. They 
took and buried them in a railed place in their 
own inclosures. 

Mrs. Spangles was right. The Willowillies 
never forgave an injury. 


234 


THK RKCTOK OTP 


CHAPTER XXIY. 

ON THE EFFECT PRODUCED I?T THE SECESSION OF THE 

WILLIWILLOWS THE GRADUAL WORKING OF THE 

LEAVEN OF DISAFFECTION, AND THE GROW'IH OF DIS- 
CONTENT — THE EVIL INFLUENCE OF MR. PIPPERELL 
AND MR. TUBINGEN. 

But they no doubt got a worse recompense for 
tlieir own souls than any injustice which they did 
to a sincere man. Some people have a depraved 
pleasure in biting off their own noses. White 
their fancied enemy survives iu full proportion, 
they consider him to be adequately punished if 
tliey can stand before him with the absence of a 
nose. Tlie Williwillows have never crossed the 
porch of St. Bardolph’s Church from that day to 
t'- ls. Perhaps they worship about the family 
' ault;- but whether they have relapsed into 
heathenism, or where they go, nobody seems to 


ST. bardolph’s. 


235 


know, and no body seems to care. Carpets, cush- 
ions, and gilded prayer-books were swept from 
their pews soon after the circumstance already 
narrated, and the Rector never encountered the 
family but once again, when the meeting was a 
sad one. Tlie farm continues in prime order. 

If all their friends had gone with them, their 
absence would have been an advantage to the 
parish. But they were widely connecte^l, and 
every other pew was' occupied by their adhererits, 
who assembled as usual at the church-porch, on 
Sundays, and bent the knee in public worship, 
but they entertained a silent and secret grudge. 
The most efficient sermons, much better than the 
ancient crack sermon, much more valuable than 
the ordinary “run” of sermons, passed over their 
heads, and were to them as so much heathen 
Greek. They did not even maintain the respect- 
ful attitude of listeners, but put their heads down 
and went to sleep, or else thought about their 
cattle and crops. If inquired of, they could not 
even tell the text. And they returned home with- 
out profit, to make disparaging remarks at dinner, 
and to snooze away for the rest of the day. In the 
course of the week, when they visited the public 
places, or the mill, or talked over a hedge, they 
dropped a word or two disparaging to the “ par- 
son.” Some of the roughest boors among them 


236 


THE KECTOK OF 


V70uld sometimes fall in with him and insult liim 
so grossly, that if they had so jostled a man in any 
other relation of life, they would most probably, 
and very deservedly, have been kicked. But if 
• they were alike destitute of feeling and of decent 
manners, they never received in return an unkind 
lock, nor ever was there borne to them, even by 
the breath of calumny, a single unkind word from 
the object of their enmity. 'The most impreg- 
nated gall administered by him was a mere nega- 
tive silence, a conservative self-respect. For 
himself, he retreated more deeply into the recesses 
of his own soul than ever, and derived more real 
good from the contempt of men than from theii 
approbation or applause. His wife even ceased 
to apply the balm of consolation, perceiving that 
h.iu own philosophy was brought to bear. In the 
flower and prime of his age, a man often receives 
more encouragement than is necessary to spur his 
faculties and to incite him to his work. But at the 
very time when he is more substantial, and when 
he could make more use of co-operation than ever, 
it is suddenly in the ways of the world withdrawn. 
Why is this, except that life is a probation, and^ 
men are not placed here to be the means of per- 
fecting others, or to perfect themselves ? Other- 
wise, when they become the treasure-houses of 
learning, piety, and every good thing, they would 


ST. bakdolph’s. 


237 


not to removed, from the earth, when to all human 
prohahilitj, thej would be the means of doing the 
most good. This is one of the things called in- 
scrutable, but after all not hard to understand. 

In the decaying popularity of the Eector, some 
few things must be noted. Those annual assem- 
blages called “ bees,” and “ spinning visits,” 
which are common in country parishes, and serve 
to eke out deficient salaries, and which seem to 
have a salutary influence in bringing the people 
together, were still kept up in the parish. But 
although tea, coffee, sugar, butter, yarn and other 
commodities, were deposited in the large basket 
which stood as a receptacle in the hall, none of 
these things which were formerly contributed with 
much generosity now came with the compliments 
of the Willi Avillows : nor were they present. 

The obstacle in the path of the Rector, thrown 
up by this case, formed a nucleus around which 
some minor discontents might collect and form a 
compact body of resistance; just as the work of 
insects lays the foundation of islands. Some 
causes of action are utterly insignificant until they 
combine themselves to form a cumulative argu- 
ment. Before this, Mr. Tubingen was reluctantly 
compelled to hold his tongue ; he new sought to 
avenge himself for his discomfiture in the choir. 
As he had lately been elected a vestryman, and 


238 


THE KECTOK OF 


had otlierwise risen to some importance in the 
community, and had married a wife not attaphed 
to the Church, he threw liis dead weight into tlie 
scale against Mr. Admuller, and he lost no op- 
portunity to make it manifest that he tolerated, 
but did not like him. ISiow, also, Mr. Timmersley, 
who fancied himself neglected, spoke boldly out, 
and said that he did not do his duty. Mr. Slatsby, 
the shoemaker, declared that he was proud, and 
jiassed him by without nodding, and had his shoes 
made in the city. Mr. Jellicks, the tinker, who 
was peculiarly tenacious, and expected a great 
deal of attention, did not think that he visited the 
people or did his duty. Mr. Pickleby said that 
his house was too well furnished for a minister of 
the gospel. Mr. Sniccles remarked that he wore 
his hair long, which was a serious objection. And 
Mr. Pipperell summed up all the objections into 
one compact, magnificent whole, saying that he 
did not do his duty, that he was proud, that he 
passed by his parishioners without nodding, that 
he had his shoes made in the city, that he did not 
visit the people, that his house was too well fur- 
nished and that he wore his hair long. The last 
item made the argument, which might have been 
weak, completely triumphant and irresistible. 

Mrs. Spangles, dear lady, tried all in her power 
to niitigalt; tliis harsh judgment, and at the meet- 


8';* yAw.tKir.Prt 8. 


ings of the Dorcas Society brought up the several 
counts of the indictment, and indeed was in the 
act of doing so when the Rector popped in. 

“ Oh, dear, we were just talking about you, and 
wondering what had become of you. Where is 
Mrs. Admuller?” 

The Rector said that she was attending to her 
duties at home. 

“We wish that she would come and give a 
little assistance to the poor heathen,” said Mrs. 
Spangles. 

The Rector cast a glance at the sharp-nosed 
lady, and her eyes fell on the pincushion whicir 
slie was working for the heathen. 

Notwithstanding these few rebuffs, the congre- 
gation at large was not estranged from their 
minister, nor was the majority of them wanting in 
affection ; but a very slight cause is sufficient to 
produce a great deal of trouble, as one part sici 
affects the whole body. The services of th». 
Church were as well attended as usual — a throng 
of carriages with well-groomed horses pawing tlie 
earth, were in attendance at the doors on every 
Sunday morning, and no one unacquainted witli 
the politics of the place would have noticed the 
vacancy which appeared in the pew of the Willi- 
willows. 


240 


TfFE KExnon; oS 


CHAPTER XXV. 

K VISIT TO THE RECTOR OF ST. J0HN-IN-THE-\VILDERHE3S, 
WITH SOME REMARKS ON SCHOOL-TEACHINO VERSITS 
PREACHING, AND AN ACCOUNT OF MR. BINCKLET'S 
ACADEMY. 

Mr. Admuller was driving to the City of New 
York in his own carriage, for at that time roads 
were bad, steam had not triumphed, the genius of 
McAdam had not scintillated along the beaten 
track, and the thunder of the rolling train was not 
heard. He did not go for the sake of investing 
money, nor of receiving dividends on bank stock, 
but to have his eldest son entered a Sophomore in 
Columbia College. Strange as it may appear, there 
was a prevalent notion that “ the parson” was rich, 
a vague tradition of certain mortgages and town 
lots, of which it was reported that he said nothing, 
but quietly accumulated, as one would roll a ball 


ST. BAKDOlPu’s. 


241 


in tlie snow. There were knowing persons who did 
not pick his pocket of his wallet, but could tell you 
what was in it by a clairvoyant faculty, as well as 
if they had turned it inside out. They would pout 
out their lips, wag their heads, and say, “ Oh, he’s 
rich — he’s rich. Wait till he dies. You'll see !” 
Thus, when he went to town, which he did twice 
annually, it was usually noised about that he had 
gone to invest money. This was not strictly true, 
for all which he received from the parish, and 
beyond that he had nothing, he invested as it came 
to hand, in the support of his family ; and a pro- 
phet only, or the son of a prophet, could divine 
where the overplus was to come from. But if in 
the course of many years, by a coercive economy, 
he had amassed comparative w'ealth, all the better. 
Let every cleric man do the same, if he can, with- 
out starving ad mterim^ without meanness, without 
avarice, and without distrusting God. Let him 
take no thought for the morrow, so far as regards 
fear for the future, or an over- anxious mind ; but 
let him expect no n iracles in his own behalf, or 
any result without means. For nothing can be 
more uncertain than the permanent attachment of 
a people, and causes which are beyond his own con- 
trol may throw him old and helpless, and gray- 
headed, on the charity of the world. If he is a 
very popular man, a “ crack-preacher,” flushed 
11 


242 


THE HECTOR OF 


with youth, admired and caressed by the fair, 
eloquent, and with lips dripping honey, above all 
things, let him sometimes imagine the time when 
there shall be no nu^re music in his voice, and no 
adulation for his ear. It will probably come, and 
then if he have not philosophy of the right kind, 
and something considered, even more substantial 
than philosophy, his head will be under a dark 
cloud. Let him not look for gratitude, and 
affection, and respect. He may still find them 
in all their pristine warmth, but given by those 
who can confer nothing else, and at the best 
it is a hard lot to be a hanger-on among those 
who are tired of your ministrations, and who are 
impatiently waiting for your place to be supplied 
by some one who now is what you once were. 

Mr. Admuller stopped in the heat of the day, 
and permitted his horse to take breath on a shady 
knoll in a grove of locusts. Hard by stood a long 
building, or rather room, not ornamental in archi- 
tecture, from which proceeded a buzzing sound 
like that of bees. The tinkling of a bell called in 
a detachment of boys who had been catching 
grasshoppers, making traps out of the lithe green 
stems of a certain weed, and ladies’ ringlets out of 
the cylinders of the dandelions, and drinking with 
an insatiate thirst from an oaken bucket, fastened to 
a pole, drawn up by a weight attached to the end of 


8T. BARDOLPh’s. 


243 


a beam. Mr. Admuller heard a furious voice 
^within crying or — der” — “,8’ down.” “Class in 
Virgil.” Then he listened to the process of scan- 
ning. Arma vi — dactyle: rumque ca — dactyle: 
iw Trqj — spondee : ce qui — spondee : •’primus ah — 
dactyle: oris — spondee. Presently he heard the 
whacking sound proceeding from the castigation 
of a delinquent Trojan, or Grecian, showing that 
the code Solomon prevailed in the school, and in a 
few minutes more the first class in Virgil snatched 
their hats from a peg and rushed out to the well, 
vieing with one another to get the first drink out 
of a tin cup. 

Mr. Admuller could not doubt that he had 
entered on the precincts of his friend, Mr. Binck- 
ley, late Kector of the parish of St. John-iii-the- 
Wilderness. On entering he was received with 
great warmth by his friend, once a member of the 
Con vocation. 

“ r am here to practice what I preached,” said 
Mr. Binckley, “that if I must be a schoolmaster, I 
will be nothing else. Behold my little flock,” said 
he, with a pleasant smile, and looking through the 
window, “ they are in yonder pasture.” 

And indeed they were so intent upon grasshop- 
pers as almost to appear feeding. 

“ Notwithstanding what you say,” replied Mr. 
Admuller, “ I observe that you have not laid aside 


THE KECIOH OF 


the gown,” lor Mr. Binckley, whose coat was sus- 
pended on a peg, had on his back the identical 
threadbare silk gown in which for twenty and odd 
years he had officiated at St. John’s. 

“ True,” said he, “ this was a present to me when 
I was a young man, by the ladies of the parish. 
They bought it by subscription among themselves, 
and made it with their own hands after a pattern. 
The donors are nearly all dead. The silk was still 
available after I iiiyself appeared of no more use, 
and was liable to starve if I continued in orders. 
1 v;ear it now because it is light and soft, and I 
am, by my present vocation, a gownsman. The 
robe is academic, not ecclesiastic. There is no 
correct authority in the Church for the black gown. 
I am glad to see you, my old friend. Do all things 
continue to work prosperously in the parish of St. 
Bardolph’s ? I need not ask — I know so.” 

“ Indeed I am not without sources of disturbance 
and trouble ; who is ? My family is large and un- 
provided for.” 

“ I am very much grieved if you encounter any 
annoyance. There is not a parish within fifty 
miles where there is not some petty feud and intes- 
tine broil, to make their incumbents miserable. 
With us, there is too much importance attached to 
the man, and too little respect for the office. At 
one time you are idolized ; at another, for no sub- 


ST. bardolph’s. 


245 


, stantial reasons, treated with contempt ; but at all 
times entirely dependent, according to our system, 
on the whim and caprices of those who, in too 
many instances, exact obedience to their will as 
the price of the very meanest and pettiest patron- 
age.” 

Mr. Bincldey was now getting on his hobby, and 
when once seated, usually took a good ride. But 
his friend tried to shake him from the fancied 
firmness of his position. He argued that an Estab- 
lishment would not make men like him any more 
established. “ You do such strange things, Binck- 
ley, and you do them in such a strange way.” He 
agreed with him that in the English Church the 
Establishment was a blessing, and men might 
argue as much as they pleased about its attendant 
evils, of which there were many to be taken into 
account, while they seemed insensible of its great 
efficiency for superior good." They could not prove 
by any arguments which would stand a test that 
the roots and fibres which had become so firmly, 
by the growth of ages, attached to the soil, could 
be uptorn and not destroy the crown and glory of 
the tree. But with us the case was different. We 
had got used to, and had learned to bear, the evils 
of our system, which were also many, but which 
were in accordance with the genius of the people, 
of their institutions and laws. It was often as 


246 


THK KECTOE OF 


perilous an experiment to adventure on the new as 
to up-tear the old. All change is accompanied by- 
convulsion. Let him be assured that he is a wise 
man who institutes a change. 

Mr. Bincklej mounted the saddle again and 
went off. Jlis usual plan was to take no notice of 
objections s'iited, but to start off anew as if nothing 
had been said. 

Thus for a little while they beguiled the time by 
a renewal of the same topics which they had dis- 
cussed before, rather in a serious than a discon- 
tented spirit, to see if any remedy^ could be sug- 
gested for p:)sitive ills, but they settled down into 
the conviction that there was not any’-, except a 
meek and patient disposition, and a perseverance 
in well doing. Mr. Binckley very candidly ac- 
knowledged that he had been much to blame. 

Calling his little flock back by the tinkling bell, 
he dismissed them to their homes, and bare-headed, 
with his gau ’.y robe fluttering in the breeze, strolled 
■with the llcctor of St. Bardolplrs along a green 
lane, to a small unpainted house, near at hand, 
which was his habitation. The fences and garden 
■were not in very good order, and the interior of it 
was somewhat typical of the man. Every article 
■W’ithin was of the homeliest and commonest kind. 
His theological library, containing many very 
good books, in plain bindings, rather lumbered than 


ST. bardolph’s. 


247 


adorned the room. Some were piled up on their 
sides, some were set up edgewise, and some pre- 
sented their backs. In one corner of the study 
w’ere thrown together many reams of yellow’ jjaper, 
a huge mass, the old sermons of Mr. Binckley, 
now of no further use. AVhat was to become of 
this b)dy of divinity, w’hich was written in so bad 
a scrawl as to put short-hand at defiance ? No 
doubt it would be piled in a somnolent bulk in a 
garret, or buried in a chest over wdiich the spiders 
w’ould w’eave a funeral pall. There were some dis- 
courses here sounder and better than nine-tenths of 
those w’hich were uttered every w’eek. AYhat a 
pity that they were written by one wdio could not 
deliver them, and that they could not be deliv’ered 
by some one wdio could do justice in reading them. 
They might have been very useful in some parts 
of the w’orld, provided they w’ere copied in a plain 
hand, or lithographed on fair paper, to deceive the 
eyes of those who sit in galleries, or of those wdio 
are observant in such things, and used by certain 
who had not learning or ability to compose any 
equally good, or w’ho, perhaps, could not spare 
the time when the shooting season was at hand ! 
How many humdrum discourses of the most nar- 
cotic character are pronounced every Sunday in 
churches, while thousands of excellep*' ccmposi- 


248 


THE RECTOR OF 


tions slumber on the shelves, feasted upon by the 
soulless moth, or eaten up by the corrosive ink ! 

Mr, Binckley pushed the pile, which had slid- 
den down, making a broad base, more compactly 
into the corner with his foot, and begged his friend 
to be seated, that dinner would be shortly served, 
and that he wanted to talk with him. He then 
said : 

“ My school is flourishing, my treasury is in 
good order, I can afford, to give your horse some 
oats.” 

He here called, in a full, commanding voice, 
(organ sw^ell,) to a small black boy, with woolly 
head, aged about ten years : 

“Tom — Tom — T-o-m ! Why don’t yoii hear? 
Take this gentleman’s horse to the stable, and give 
him some oats.” 

Dinner was presently announced, which consisted 
of pork and beans. Mr. Binckley, after getting 
on a chair and peering into a closet, also managed 
to draw forth from a corner a solitary bottle of 
Madeira wine. He, however, had no wdne-glasses, 
to the want of which he made no allusion any more 
than if it were a kind of glass-ware never used, 
but decanted immediately in a tumbler, filling his 
•wm. He remarked that he had not tasted a drop 
o/ wine in five years ; that this bottle was a present. 


ST. BARDOLPn’s. 


249 


and he now uncorked it to the health of his good 
friend, the Eector of St. Bardolph’s. 

“ Why do you put your son to college?” said he, 
smacking his lips. “ He will forget all he ever 
learned. The systems of education are radically 
wrong. What are their degrees worth ? Hot 
that,” said he, snapping his fingers with a loud 
noise. “ They are often bestowed, as the title of 
D. D. once was, on Joannes Caballus — Jack Ass. 
I lost all my Latin and Greek at College, and 
brought away as much bad Latin — miserable de- 
formed stufi* — as could be written in a flourishing 
hand on a bit of parchment, fastened together 
word by word by the rules of Syntax, and by the 
help of a Lexicon — the work of some starched 
professor, who sat up all night to accomplish it, 
and was at last satisfied with the composition, be- 
cause he thought it would parse. Poh ! poh ! I 
knew by the look of it that it was all wrong — all 
wrong — all wrong — wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, 
wrong, wrong, ror, ror, ror, ror. Plenty of idioms 
— plenty of fine phrases — separate parts all well 
enough — well enough — but it did not stick at the 
joints — the whole thing ridiculous. Jackson was 
the best scholar I ever knew — he’s gone, poo- 
fello ! Mull, what are you going to make of year 
boy ?” 


250 


THE KECTOK OF 


“ Kot a good linguist, if what you say be cor* 
rect.” 

«]^o? — that will depend entirely on himself. I 
should say, let him stay at home, and go through 
Erasmus. At the end of six months he will know 
more than college-bred youths in ten years. 1 
teach my boys by a system of my own. I don’t 
follow the ordinary plan of looking out words in 
dictionaries^. I compel them, before my own eyes, 
to go through a process, and do not merely ask 
them, as others, for a result. When words are to 
be looked out I make them all do it before my 
own eyes, and then I know it’s done. I drill the 
eye, the ear, and the tongue, alike. What is the 
use of learning to translate a language, when you 
see it, if you are strangers to the same when you 
hear it, or if indeed you cannot speak it? Kone 
at all. Ask a college-bred youth to construe a 
passage in'the classics, after being conversant -with 
them for ten or fifteen years, and he will scarcely 
do it correctly; but if candid he will confess that 
I'G knows little Latin and less Greek. Examine 
the clergy ; and see how much they know of He- 
brew !” 

Here Mr. Binckley burst into a loud laugh, and 
ucmc reminiscences of his clerical brethren seem- 
•}d to be suggestive of ridiculous ideas. He al- 
luded facetiously to the few chapters in Genesis 


ST. bakdolph’s. 


251 


throngli which' they managed to plod, and the 
great difficulties wliich lay in the way of master- 
ing the Hebrew alphabet ; how they used to sit 
in class with King James’s version open beside 
them, and after they had bungled over the text 
in such a manner, that if Moses had been present 
he had been tempted to kill them as he did the 
Egyptian — ^liow they would begin to construe one 
word at a time, sometimes substituting the wrong 
word from King James, although the more ambi- 
tious of them, to make sure, would have it cor- 
rectly over-written in pencil. At last the good- 
natured Professor, who was in fact ashamed of the 
whole set, smiling over his spectacles, used to say, 
with musical, ironical cadence, as if the reader 
had achieved a complete triumph, “That ’ll do, 
Mr. Maginn. The next.” 

Mr. Admuller, in reply, took occasion to object 
to Mr. Binckley’s mode of teaching the languages. 
It was a parrot-like process, by which children 
might he taught who were too young to reason or 
to reflect; a cultivation like the celebrated Mr. 
Blimber’s, by which some very green and sappy 
off-shoots of intellect, as in a hot-house, might be 
forced to spring up. It put the industrious and 
the indolent, the dull and the quick-witted, on a 
dead level. It removed incentives to study and 
to good scholarship, and that happy exercise of 


252 


THE KECTOR OF 


the mind which arises from selecting, from compar- 
ing, and in fact reasoning, on the philosophy of the 
tongue. Better scholars will never he made than 
those who toiled up the hill of learning, when the 
ways were not smoothed — when they had in fact 
to evolve their own grammar, and to compile 
their own dictionary. Those were indeed learn- 
ed men, of whom the age might he proud ! 

Mr. Binckley. — Bona verha ! Bona rnrha ! 
brother Admuller. Our country is the place for 
such slow process ! Such intense scholarship will 
not pay. Where will you find any'to appreciate 
it? The forests which overgloom the land must 
first he levelled before you can begin with the 
Hebrew and Greek roots. Mr. Fidler came to 
tliis country, and was angry because there was no 
market for the sale of his Sanscrit. He brought 
great treasures from the Orient, he exposed his 
knowledge, and in all the colleges and universi- 
ties, found no one who could say boo ! I knew 
Fidler — ^he was a great goose ! Only to think of 
the perfection of his reasoning powers to come to 
the United States for the express purpose of teach- 
ing the natives Sanscrit ! 

Here Mr. Binckley again burst into his own 
laugh, which was peculiarly rude and uncouth, at 
the same time, as was his custom, brushing up his 
long, coarse hair, with his ten fingers. He always 


ST. BARDOLPH S. 


253 


talked in this sarcastic vein, and differed from 
everybody else. This involved him in the same 
troubles as a schoolmaster which he had met with 
in the Church ; when he held the crook, as when 
he wielded the birch. Some parents objected to 
his new-fangled methods, but above all, the code 
Solomon w'as resisted with might and main. Tlie 
seeds of equality were already springing up in the 
mind of the child, and Mr. Binckley declared 
that it was necessary to pat- his head and not to 
dust his back. He did not know what the world 
was coming to. One parent had taken him aside, 
and told liim confidentially to be very particular 
in the treatment of his son, as he believed him to 
be a genius ! “A genius !” replied Mr. Binckley, 
“a genius! My dear sir, permit ^me to tell you 
that he is remarkably stupid !” 

Mr. Admuller, whose mind was sombre, felt 
himself amused and refreshed by this visit to his 
friend, but put an end to the conversation by 
drawing out his watch and saying that he must be 
oft'. The Professor again roared out for the dimi- 
nutive, ridiculous little servant, Tom, but as he was 
fast asleep in the loft, ho fluttered out to the stable 
in his black gown, and brought out the horse him 
self. As the carriage passed out of the gate, the 
schoolmaster waved his hand, saying: 


254 


THE KECTOR OF 


“ Good by, St. Bardolpli , don’t send your boy 
to College.” 

The Rector laughed heartily, and said to him- 
self, “ that is a queer, perverse man ! In him are 
learning, intelligence, and a kind heart, all ren- 
dered void, and even an innate piety is obscured 
to the eyes of men. Such a man, however, be- 
comes steeled to trouble, because he is in hot 
water all the time.” 

Mr. Admuller was very anxious with respect to 
his son. Had he followed the guidance of his 
judgment, he would have put him to a trade. 
Pure, ingenuous, and with a fondness for learn- 
ing, he yearned for knowledge, and all his desires 
were toward the Church. Should he enter it, he 
would do so at an early age, without experience 
of the world, and at a time when the horizon was 
becoming dark. Should his father be ousted from 
his present place, he was too old to hope for ano- 
ther. Parishes are peculiarly careful not to be 
encumbered with a man in age. How then could 
he encounter the heavy expenses of educating his 
son, at a time when foundations and scholarships 
were rare, and his influence was on the wane ? 

Dismissing these thoughts from his mind, and 
ever and anon involuntarily laughing outright at 
the eccentricities of Mr. Binckley, he presently 


ST. BAKDOLPll'S. 


25 f. 

entered on the paved streets of the city, ana 
reined h 's horse np before the lawn as about an 
hundred boys emerged from the portals of Colum- 
bia Coi’ 'ge. 


256 


THE KECTOK OF 


CHAPTER XXYI. 

HOW MISS VALEARy’s VOICE BECOMETH CRACKED, AND 
SHE IS REQUESTED NOT TO SING IN THE CHOIR, AND 
HOW AN UNTOWARD ACCIDENT BEFEL MR. PIPPERELL, 
AND THE FEARFUL CONSEQUENCES WHICH ENSUED, 
AND HOW THE RECTOR HAD TO SUFFER FOR THESE 
NONSENSICAL AFFAIRS, THE WHOLE BEING INTENDED 
TO SHOW WHAT PETTY FEELINGS MAY SOMETIMES 
PREVAIL IN A PARISH. 

It cost me, indulgent reader, some considerable 
scruple and reflection before I could make up my 
mind to enter upon the following record, the like 
of which, I verily believe, is not to be found in 
those beautiful works, the “ Yicar of Wakefield,” 
or the “ Poor Yicar.” But I have concluded that 
by so doing, a good purpose might be subserved. 
He who means well may hope for pardon if he 


orrs. 


ST. bardolph’s. 


257 


In the one hundred and twenty-fifth year of the 
foundation of the parish, and in the thirty-fifth of 
the administration of the present Rector, or there- 
about, a discord began in the organ-loft of a more 
grating character than that which on a former 
occasion had concerned the puffed-out cheeks of 
the probulgeiit Tubingen. The singing powers of 
this gentleman had not diminished with his age, 
and he still gloried in a-guttural bass, which told 
on the seats whereupon the congregation sat. A 
great deal of new talent had been added to the 
choir. Moreover the little organ before which the 
youthful Miss Yaleary used to bounce up and 
down as she pressed the pedals and the keys, had 
been replaced by one with gilded pipes more lofty 
and with stops more numerous. This was played 
upon by an organist whose style was modern and 
elaborate, and his eccentricities called for occa- 
sional restriction and rebuke. His voluntaries 
effloresced into all the bloom and luxury of his 
charming genius, wdiicli literally disported in the 
waves of sound ; and as it gave up its musical 
ghost, just when the opening sentences were about 
to be read, divers of the virtuosi would nod and 
smile, while one would perhaps whisper to another, 
with a recognizing look, “ La, Dame Blanefie?'* 
The congregation of St. Rardolph’s now prided 
themselves on their choir, and it was a common 


£58 


THE KECTOR OF 


remark as they passed out, “ What excellent music 
we had to-day !” But, to tell you the plain truth, 
it was contemptibly poor music — unfit - for the 
occasion — devoid of religious expression — fit only 
for the pomp of a village festivity — and inflated 
with vanity. When you heard the brass rings 
rattle over the iron rod to which the red curtain 
was attached, shutting up the choristers in the 
seclusion of their perchedmp loft, then you might 
know that some grand exploits of vocalism were to 
come oflP. The sexton, who had been despatched in 
good season to the “sacristy,’’ to obtain from the 
Rector the number of the psalm and hymn, having 
returned with a small slip of paper on which they 
were indicated in pencil, a great whispering and 
consultation having taken place which resulted in 
the selection of tunes, Mr. Tubingen placed the 
music book on the rack, and the bellows of the 
little-big organ were put in play. Never was a 
more brilliant sparkle and scintillation elicited 
from the windy bellows of a blacksmith’s forge. 
The head and shoulders of the organist swayed up 
and down like those of a Chinese eater of the 
narcotic drug, in the accompaniment of an impro- 
visation upon the keys, which made the whole 
congregation involuntarily twist their necks and 
look aloft, and at last with a full choral blast from 
tenor, bass, and treble, the magical effect was 


ST. bardolph’s. 


259 


complete. There were, no doubt, many present 
who came expressly to “ hear the music,” and the 
knowledge of this fact inspired the artists with a 
desire to do themselves justice. It is true some of 
the old people did not like the concatenation of 
sounds. These, however, were considered behind 
the age, and the opinion of such as worthy of small 
respect in the onward “ march of improvement.” 
They were swept away in their slender opposition 
by the force of public opinion, if not by a whirl- 
wind of sound. At any rate, Death was fast 
removing them, one by one, while their deaf ears 
were becoming sealed to such annoyance. It was 
to the great surprise of the Eector that the choir 
one day struck upon the Te Deum^ which he had 
been hitherto accustomed to read, and through 
various turns, and windings, and repetitions, they 
discoursed upon it for a full half hour. It was, 
however, the last time that they so distinguished 
themselves before the musical world. There was 
no piece of cathedral composition which the choir 
at St. Bardolph’s did not consider themselves 
competent to perform, and had they been allowed 
their own way, would have sung the sermon, and 
made more out of the Amen than any other part. 
Mr. Hivoxhad indeed composed something original 
out of the theme of an Awmen^ full fifteen minutes 
long, and we are sure that when it was finished n-' 


260 


THE RECTOR OF 


hearer of sound judgment but would have instinct- 
ively ejaculated with his whole heart, Awmen ! 
But the triumph of all the voices was in some of 
ih^ftigiie tunes, in which they emulated to interrupt 
and outstrip each other, as in the one hundred and 
thirty-third psalm : 

“ True love is like that precious oil 
Which poured on Aaron’s head, 

Ean down his beard, and o’er his robes 
Its costly moisture shed.” 

In the prodigious effort of this performance the 
ear-splitting combination of the several voices 
hardly bore a resemblance to that oily current 
poured on Aaron’s head, and which — 

“ Ean down his beard and o’er his head 

Ean down his beard 

his robes 

And o’er his robes 

Ean down his beard ran down his 

o’er his robes- — 

Ilis robes, his robes, ran down his beard 

Ean down his 

o’er his robes 

Ean down his beard 

h-i-s b-6-ard 

Its costly moist 

Ean down his beard 

ure — beard— his — beard — his— shed 


ST. bardolph’s. 


261 


ran down his beard — ^his — down 

his robes — its costly moist — his beard 

ure shed — ^his — cost — his robes — ^Iiis robes — ure shed 

l-trs c-o-s-t-l-i-e mois-ture shed.” 

It was of this very composition, similarly per 
formed, that the late Bishop Seabiiry on one of hia 
visitations was asked his opinion, and his reply 
was that he had paid no attention to the music ; but 
that his sympathies were so much excited for poor 
Aaron that he was afraid that he would not have 
a hair left. A most appropriate and humorous 
reply on the part of the good bishop. And this, it 
must be remembered, was at a time when the 
“ divine Cecilia came” to these benighted realms. 
A taste for the vocal art began to be fostered in 
the western world, and especially in the parts 
adjacent to the Long Island Sound, and various 
books on sacred music were put forth by professors 
of renown, and the science had just begun to 
repudiate a nasal twang. Is it to be wondered 
that when a clergyman sometimes in the perform- 
Biice of his duty must needs become maestro to 
keep the big-chested gentry of singers in order, 
that they should lend the compass of their voices 
to swell the cry of unpopularity which may be 
raised against him ? If he would court favour, let 
him court the music of the probulgent bass, and 
pay ‘levotion to the squeaking treble, have no 


262 


THE KECTCR OF 


sympathy for the beard of Aaron, and throw bis 
own voice from the chancel-end into the over- 
powering Hallelujah-chorus. If the church has no 
organ, then let him defer to the opinion of the 
bassoon, and dance attendance on Jhe jigging airs 
of the profane fiddle. So shall there be one discord 
less. 

In the new construction of a more ambitious 
choir at St. Bardolph’s there was one acknowledged 
element of discord of which it was hard to get rid. 
This was a matter which had long taxed the 
ingenuity of the members ; but as it was of an 
exceedingly delicate nature there was no indivi- 
dual found with sufficient tact or boldness to 
suggest a plan, or, if so, to carry it into execution. 
The fact is, that Miss Yaleary would continue to 
sing, and Miss Yaleary was no longer what she 
once was. She was now an ancient maid, with all 
the characteristics of the lone and melancholy order 
to which she was attached. Her once plump 
throat had become sadly shrivelled, for the chin 
and throat, as well as the brow itself, bear the 
marks of mediaeval time with such distinctnesi 
that no deep-cut tomb-stone can tell a truer tale. 
So had her voice insensibly deteriorated from a 
somewhat brisk and sparkling shrillness to a 
lamentable screech. Still the little lady, from the 
force of habit, when Sunday came was punctual at 


ST. bardolph’s. 


263 


her post, and though conscious that she sang not 
with her former ease, yet in the goodness of her 
heart she exerted herself more strenuously than 
ever. And she did in truth and sincerity be- 
lieve that she was no unimportant element of 
that choir, of which she had been a member for so 
many years. That her assistance was^ no longer 
desired was a thought which had never come to her 
in dreams. That it was even indispensable was 
what she innocently believed. Hence she was 
always present at rehearsals, and actually screeched 
from a sense of duty, when if she had consulted 
her own desires she would have long since retired 
from so conspicuous and invidious a post. But 
although the task nad been at first disagreeable, 
and in the modesty of her nature she had shrunk 
from its performance, she had gradually trained 
herself to perform it. She did not hear the 
remarks which were made because she had recent- 
ly become a little deaf; and she did not see the 
winks and sly glances in the choir, when she 
ventured upon the higher notes of the gamut, 
because she had begun to wear glasses and her 
eyes were a little dim. The other vocalists were 
profoundly vexed to have the effect of their execu- 
tion marred. At last as no one would volunteer to 
act alone, they resolved to share the responsibility^ 
and actually appointed a committee of three to wait 


264 


THE KECTOE OF 


upon Miss Yalearj. She was practicing on an old 
piano when they arrived, and she rose to meet 
them with a chirping cheerfulness. In order to 
pave the way to the disagreeable business, and 
ij!jitroduce the subject of music, they asked her to 
play, and Miss Valeary performed an antique 
piece, called in antique Latin, Dulce Domum. 
Then she inquired whether the choir had selecte<i 
any new chaunts for the festival of Christmas. 

“ It was on some such subject that we called 
said the bisr-chested Mr. Tubingen. 

“ Indeed !” said the narrow-chested Miss Yalea- 
ry, her eyes sparkling with animation, and swing- 
ing her reticule as she turned upon the bench and 
looked into the abashed faces of the formidable 
trio. They all hemmed and hawed like the choral 
file in a gallery when the leader has struck his 
pitch fork on the blunt end. 

“I have heard our last Sunday’s performance 
highly praised,” said she. 

“ Yes,” said Mr. Tubingen, interrogatively. 

“ Indeed I have. I have been practising a new 
chaunt composed by the organist of St. John’s, in 
ttie city, which has been much admired. If you 
like, we will try it.” 

“We hope that Miss Yaleary will not be ofiend* 
vd,” said Mr. Tubingen. 

“Oh, no,” said Mr. Decorus, the tenor. 


ST. BARDOLPH S. 


265 


“We liave all frequently remarked that no one 
in the congre,^ation feels a deeper interest in the 
music than Miss Valeary,” said Mr. Hivox, the 
alto. • 

The little lady looked a little disconcerted, and 
cast a sharp, penetrating glance upon thj dele- 
gation. 

“We are fully aware that you will do any thing 
for the interest of the church,” said Mr. Tubin- 
gen. . 

“ We have not entertained the least doubt of 
that,” said Mr. Decorus. 

“ Most undoubtedly,” remarked Mr. Hivox. 

“ To be sure, I will,” added Miss Yaleary. 

“ It has been a matter of remark,” proceeded Mr. 
Tubingen, “well it has only lately — well, yes I 
may say, not for a length of time — but only recent- 
ly — it has been, no doubt, it has been — I think I 
I may say mainly — I don’t know — I kind of 
think” 

“ People have got to be so very fastidjus,” said 
Mr. Decorus. 

“ And so very critical,” added Mr. Hivox. 

“ Indeed !” said Miss Yaleary. 

“ Yes,” replied Mr. Tubingen. 

“Yes,” said Mr. Decorus. 

“ Yes,” said Mr. Hivox. 

“ Gentlemen, you need not be afraid to say what 
13 


266 


THE KI'XTOli OF 


you wish,” remarked the scrutinizing lady, who had 
by this time become aware of the confusion of the 
trio. 

“We knowed that you would not be offended,” 
said the gallant Mr. Tubingen, squeezing with his 
big paw the little hand of the little lady, which was 
full of rings. 

“ How you hurt me,” said the offended Miss Va- 
leary. 

“I beg your pardon,” said Mr. Tubingen. 

“ Will you explain yourself?” exclaimed the 
lady, with peremptory tone, and with flashing 
eyes, almost transflxing the speaker. 

“ A — yes — ma’am — we are sorry — we do not 
speak for ourselves,” said Mr. Tubingen. 

“ Hot at all,” said Mr. Decorus and Mr. Hivox 

“ Have I given any offence ?” said Miss Ya- 
leary. 

“ Hone at all — none in the least — none what- 
ever — far from it — on the contrary,” — exclaimed 
all three, with intensity. 

“ What then ?” said the little lady. 

“It is a subject which we feel the greatest 
delicacy in approaching,” said Mr. Tubingen, the 
speaker, “but it may not be unevident to Miss 
Valeary that Miss Valeary’s voice — which is, I 
may say — on ordinary occasions — in a room — 
at the social meeting — so creditable to Miss Va- 


ST. bardolph’s. 


26T 


leary — does not so fully — that is, I may say — 
highly as we think of it — so adequately — kind 
of chord with the present composition of the 
choir to do that justice to Miss Yaleary whicli Miss 
Yaleary’s voice — in the opinion of good judges, is 

— so — so — so highly cap’ble of on the 

part of Miss Yaleary!” 

“ Is that it ?” said the lady, bursting into 
an offended cachination, “You have been a long 
time coming to it. Put your minds perfectly 
at rest, gentlemen. So long as I live, if it be 
a hundred years, you shall never suffer annoy- 
ance on my account. I will listen to your melo- 
dies, though they should happen to come through 
the nose,” she said, looking smilingly at Mr. Tu- 
bingen. And with that she jerked out of her 
seat, and began to arrange flowers in a vase with 
dainty judgment. 

Tlie committee bungled out of the room imme- 
diately. “ A hundred years 1” said Mr. Hivox, 
the alto, with witty cruelty, as they walked along ; 
“If she lives a little longer, the if will be out 
of the question.” As this was uttered, all three 
joined in an admirably-executed laughing chorus 
—to which Miss Yaleary was only a listener. 

After they had gone, she was in a state ot 
nervous agitation, and flitted about with the 
agility of a grasshopper. She arranged her tidy 


I 


268 THE KECTOK OF 

French bonnet on her head, and with her cheeks 
in a high state of inflammation, and her little 
eyes full of eagerness, passed out of the gate 
with trepidation, and speaking to no one whom 
she met, arrived out of breath at those head- 
quarters for all sorrowing, complaining souls, the 
Village Rectory. Admitted into the study, she 
sat down, and with many sobs and sighs and pi- 
tiable inflections, in the midst of drowning floods' 
and with an hystericky abruptness, told the story 
of her wrongs. 

“ She loved her church, he-he-he-hik-e-he. She 
always had loved her church — she n-e-h-ever would 
enter its doors again.” {An overwhelming hurst of 
feeling^ 

In vain did the Rector try his persuasive powers 
to heal the sorrow-stricken heart of the ex-organist 
and now ex-singer, and alas ! by her own declara- 
tion, ex-communieate. In cases of this nature he 
had not near as much salve as some others ; not so 
many endearing titulets — not so much cooing gen- 
tleness. When these little hystericky storms were 
brewing beneath him, his head seemed to be lifted 
up in the regions of metaphysics. He did not be- 
come “ a comforting man,” so well as he might 
have done to these fictitious griefs, and it was partly 
on this account that the late Mrs. Yosselingen did 
not consider him evangelical. At the time of her 


ST. baedolph’s. 


269 


disappointment about the Choctaw and Chickasaw 
College, she thought that he had treated her with 
abruptness and a want of courtesy. When Miss 
Valeary retired, she drew her veil closely over her 
face, for it was marred by grief. 

Troubles go in broods. As she passed out of the 
gate, the head warden walked in and thumped at 
the door as if he would knock it down. He was in 
an ill-humour, as might be seen by a glance, and 
that he was seeking an object to vent it on was 
evident to the Rector’s wife, whose apprehensions 
were excited when she saw him advance. The 
occasion of his displeasure was so ridiculous that I 
can hardly bring my mind to record it, yet the 
annals of St. Bardolph’s parish would hardly be 
complete without it. On this account it shall be 
told, indulgent reader, though in a very brief way. 

There was an old he-goat who led a vagabond life 
in the village, whcTse temper had become ruined, 
and his belligerent disposition increased by the teas- 
ing of mischievous boys, who sometimes attempted 
to ride on his back, until he scattered the whole 
troop like chaff before the wind. One Sunday having 
been inordinately vexed by the Sunday-school child- 
ren of the neighborhood, he took refuge on the 
porch of St. Bardolph’s church just as the bell was 
tolling. The old sexton had more than once expel- 
led him from this position, not scrupling to throw at 


270 


THE KECTOR OF 


him stones, asid saying that he was “ the 

Divil’s likeness.” On the present occasion he re- 
mained undisturbed, and when the Rector had retired 
to robe himself after morning prayers, deliberately 
walked up the aisle and looked about with the 
gravity of a judge. Mr. Pipperell arose with great 
pomp and indignation, his cheeks puffed out, his 
lips pouting, and an angry scowl upon his brow. 
He laid down his prayer-book, placed his spectacles 
over his pate, and his gold-headed cane beneath his 
arm, and marched with indubitable courage to the 
attack. The venerable animal putting his head to 
the ground, received him in the epigastric region, 
and running with him violently for some distance, 
knocked him flat in the middle of the aisle. His 
spectacles went in one direction, and his gold-headed 
cane in another, while the spectators appeared per- 
fectly delighted with the scene. He got upon his 
feet and was assisted home by Mr. Fennels in a 
state of mind bordering on insanity. It was one of 
those untoward, unhappy circumstances wliich 
sometimes occur to mar the solemnity of divine 
service. It is possible that such events are brought 
about by the agency of evil spirits, w'ho having a 
spice of malicious humour, apply an unhallowed 
invention to disconcert the minds of those engaged^ 
H serious acts. 

It was to vent his irritated feelings, and to make 


BT. BAitDOLPH's. 


271 


complaint, that the church-warden came tothe^Kec- 
tor’s house and knocked at the door. He com- 
plained that the sexton was old and worn out, and 
did not do his duty, and must be dismissed, and he 
should take it upon him to perform that act himself. 
He paid fifty dollars a year for pew-rent, and it was 
not safe for him to enter the church. Nuisances 
W'ere tolerated under the very eye of the Rector. 
Some change or other must take place soon, 
and to be very plain with the Rector, he would 
tell him that other people thought so too. Then 
he went on to describe, in detail, the assault which 
had been made on him by the venerable goat, 
during which the Rector laughed incontinently in 
his very face. The rage of the churcliwarder 
was unbounded, and he discoursed, for a time, in 
such a spirit of vulgar insolence that had he done 
so in another man’s house he might have run the 
risk of being kicked out of doors. 

When he was gone, Mr. Admuller did what he 
had abstained from doing for a long time. He 
took down a long pipe, dedicated to the memory 
of Mr. Coolman, filled it with the best Virginia 
tobacco, elevated his feet, fixed his eye upon the 
cornice, and feeding himself with his own re- 
flections, smoked until his head turned. 


272 - 


THE RECTOR OF 


CHAPTER XXYII. 

A SHORT EPISODE, WHICH TREATS OF MR. TUBINGEN 
AND THE LITTLE GREEN-BAIZE ANGEL. 

I HAVE some scruple, O beloved reader, about 
this, as I had about the preceding chapter. But 
in running my eye back hastily over the pages 
of this narrative, I find that the substance of one 
event which should have been recorded at an ear- 
lier stage has been inadvertently omitted. Inad- 
vertently ? Not exactly. While indicting the record ^ 
in my quiet study the circumstance did flit athwart 
my remembrance, but with a sort of subdued 
smile and quivering of the mouth-corners, and 
prohibitory shake of the head, I discarded it 
with a flourish of the feather-end of the quill, 
as altogether too petty. On farther reflec- 
tion, I am not quite so sure of that. It is not 
without use to picture forth exactly anything 


ST. bardolph’s. 


273 


wlncli happens ; and having portrayed, after some 
misgivings, the adventure of Mr. Pipperell and the 
venerable goat, I may be pardoned for narrating the 
circumstance of Mr. Tubingen and the little 
green-baize angel. It was something on account 
of which that gentleman owed the Eector a pre- 
cedent dislike, the history of which went back 
beyond the choral quarrel, and was almost coeval 
with the date of the “ crack sermon.” “ But if I 

put it down ” “ By all means do it,” says my 

reverend friend, now smoking his long pipe at my 
elbow. Do not disdain these little things.” 

“ I will,” said I, touching with the nib of my 
pen the surface of the ink. 

Says Bartold, into whose MS. I have now taken 
a dip, 

“ Alwaie keep your Diarie in which you will 
putt down whatsoever doth Occur to you in Life, 
from readyng, from h7olledg, from Observatioun. 
Y® Incidents may seeme to you of No Account. 
Eecord them trulie, and they will serve some true 
purpose before your Life’s End. Yea and more- 
over at y® End of Each Daie strive you to remem- 
ber trulie all that hath occurred to ye during the 
Daie, from seeing men, from readyng Bookes, from 
Conversatioun, from Eeflectioun, dating from y® 
time that you saia juornkng Prayer, until you lay 


274 


THE RECTOR OF 


your head down upon y® Pillowe. It will Come 
in play.” 

There is not the least doubt of it, Bartold. 

Well, then, when the Hector was at the height 
of his popularity, on one occasion just preceding 
the Christmas holidays, he received a request that 
he would come round to the church and encou- 
rage the young ladies of the parish, by the sanc- 
tion of his advice and presence. For they were 
engaged, and had been for some days, in decorat- 
ing the church with festive greens. Tlie Eectoj* 
being also busily employed in preparing sermons 
for the festival, would willingly have resigned the 
whole matter to the acknowledged taste and zeal 
of the fair. But when formally appealed to in 
his study by a blooming deputy, whose request 
was also seconded by another blooming deputy, 
lie could not in politeness decline, and laying down 
his pen, and leaving the sermon in the midst, he 
accompanied his parishioners to St. Bardolph’s 
Church. The ground was covered with snow, 
a foot deep, and the old people, with theii 
fingers in mittens, said that they were glad of it, 
for a “ green Christmas made a fat grave-yard.” 
Several loads of evergreens, running vines and 
aurel, lay at the porch, covering up the graves 
and monuments of the dead. Tlie prominent 
people of the parish had willingly despatched 


ST. bardolph’s. 


iiV5 

their wagons to the neighbouring hills to procure 
the greens, and there would be enough left 
after the Church was finished to decorate the par- 
lours of those who loved this good old custom of 
the Church. The procuring of Christinas greens 
from the woods is itself a festivity in which Pomp, 
and Yaft', and Cuff, and Cmsar, and Jupiter, and 
all ^he coloured people who drive the teams, com- 
bine with heart and soul. They tie the horses in 
a by-path, under the leafless oaks, while straying 
about to the neighbouring grove of hemlocks, 
they chop oft' the green branches, and dig out of the 
hcdlows with their finger-nails the running vines, 
which are visible above the snows. Then they 
pile them on the wagons, and jog down the 
hills, when presently they come in sight of the 
steeple, and the pace is quickened. At the port- 
als of the Church, they are received by the old 
sexton, who makes a prudent disposition of the 
greens, and does not allow the wheels of the wag- 
ons to plough a furrow on the graves. Pomp, and 
Cuff, and Company, retreat from the grave-yard 
at sundown, having discharged their greenish 
freights, provide their horses with a comfortable 
bed for the night, roll the wagons under the 
thatched sheds in the farm-yards, enter the capa- 
cious kitchen of the old farm-house, ensconce them- 
selves in the ample jambs of the fire-place, where 


276 


THE KECTOK 01 


a large fi 'e is blazing, pull off their wet mittens, 
eat their suppers and become somnolent. Ne- 
groes have abounded in Westchester since the set- 
tlement of the country, and their masters think 
a great deal of them. They are well kept, well 
fed, and in fact eat up more than they earn. 

If you pay a visit to an old farm house you will 
»e sure to notice two or three family servants as 
lack as soot, who will occasionally bustle into the 
parlour, if it be winter, with a basket of •'.^hite 
hickory chips, dispose them between the shining 
brass and irons, put dr»wn their round, woolly 
heads to the coals, puflt out their cheeks, by the 
help of dry corncobs intermingled with the chips, 
blow up a bright blaze, then take up the basket 
and retire. The coloured people are, generally, 
attached to the Methodist persuasion ; but where 
their affections are enlisted on the side of our 
church, as was the case in Westchester, while they 
are, perhaps, on the whole less apt to give way to 
religious animal excitement, they are found to be 
devoted and attached members. 

As the Rector set his foot upon the porch his ear 
was greeted with peals of merry laughter from 
within. lie opened the door suddenlj’-, and hold- 
ing the knob in his hand, remained motionless 
for an instant, gazing fixedly, though not repul- 
sively, on those within, at the same time looking 


ST. BARDOLPn’s. 


277 


as grave as a judge. He said nothing at all, but 
the sound of voices was immediately hushed as he 
gazed with a keen eye all about the church ; now 
at that person on the topmost round of a ladder, 
driving a ten-penny nail into the cornice, from 
which to swing a festoon, now at those young 
ladies conversing in a gay dialogue while setting 
out a store of good things for lunch on the commu- 
nion-table of the church ! Then entering he closeu 
the door, and stood by the little group of young 
men who kneeled at the feet of maidens assem- 
bled about the stove-pipe, assisting them in the 
weaving of thick green wreaths, while they dis- 
coursed of the next ball or assembly, which was to 
be held on Hew Year’s Eve. Occasionally they 
threw the aromatic, pitchy branches into the fire, 
making a great blaze and crackling as each leaf 
crumpled up and exploded like a cockle. The old 
sexton crept or rather crawled silently about the 
aisles, now and then sweeping some rubbish out of 
a corner, or drawing the covering more completely 
over the corners of the damask curtains on the 
pulpit and desk, keeping a sharp look out on Avhat 
was going on, and let it be remarked, paying little 
attention, to the imperative command of Mr. Tu- 
bingen, who was the individual at the top of the 
ladder. “ Hallo, old fellow, give us a lift, will 
you ? How do you think my arm is strong enough 


278 


THE KECTOR OF 


to lift up this wreath to the nail ? Hold on below 
there !” Every now and then the sexton would go 
out and stand in the middle of the grave-yard, 
looking up at the chimney with an anxious eye. 
He had some regard for the interests of the Insu- 
rance Company, but more for St. Bardolph’s 
church, which he would not see burned to the 
ground through any oversight or carelessness on 
his part. He was conscious that grave responsi- 
bility devolved upon him. He performed his duties 
with carefulness, with punctuality, with conscien- 
tiousness. At the end of every year he could 
receive his £4, tlie wages of his sextonship, know- 
ing that they were well earned. Good Mr. Fen- 
nels ! ^ 

Tlie Eector, after a few significant glances at 
what w^as going on, answered to the appeal of the 
young ladies with a high approbation of their 
taste and industry. He remarked that he was de- 
lighted to see this beautiful custom, of which the 
moral effect was so good, and the religious asso- 
ciations so pleasing, carefully maintained in all 
o ir parishes. 

Indeed, he made a beautiful and pointed allu- 
sion to it in his sermon on the last Christmas Eve, 
taking his text from the Prophet, “ The glory ot 
Lebanon shall come unto Thee ; the fir-tree, the 
pine-tree, and the box together, to beautify the 


ST. bardolph’s. 279 

place of my sanctuary, and I will make the place 
of my feet glorious.” 

On the score of good taste, there were some ex- 
tremes to be avoided. In the city where they had 
recently builded some very handsome churches, 
he thought that the decoration for Christmas had 
become a little slighted, for fear of injuring the 
stucco. It was thought that the moral effect of 
the building — which might be injured by the 
driving of a few nails into the pretended slabs of 
stone or marble — was of more importance than 
the moral effect of the old and handed-down 
custom. Hence, a few green twigs stuck up here 
and there, where it could be done without any 
break in the plaster, was all which remained, the 
reminiscence of a reminiscence. Tliis would be 
like turning the monument of a great and good 
man of God out of doors, because the architect 
might modestly think that its presence would in- 
jure the general effect of the building which he 
had erected ; in fine that the moral effect pro- 
duced by gazing on the statue, and calling to 
mind the virtues of the good man, was nothing 
compared to the sublimity of his plastered edifice. 
“I do not like to see the time-honored usage 
slighted in the observance,” said the Kector. 
“ People may sneer as they will at observances 
like this, they have their origin in the necessities 


280 


THE KECTOK OF 


of our composition, and he who is so spiritual oi 
so wise as to rise above sucli necessity, soars often 
to a pride of intellect or of religion, like Infidelity 
itself.” 

On the other hand, be remarked that the deco 
rating of churches might be sometimes a little 
overdone. He enquired what was that object on 
the wall immediately over the chancel ; he did not 
refer to the green star of Bethlehem, nor to the 
green dove hovering, but it was immediately over 
that inscription in paste-board letters sprinkled 
over witli the green-pointed leaves, “ Glory be to 
God on high, and on earth peace, good will 
toward men.” lie was then informed by those 
present that it was a green-baize angel, cut out 
with a pair of scissors, by Mr. Tubingen, and in- 
tended to represent the foremost of the angelic 
host. 

To tell the truth, it looked more like a frog 
than an angel. A slight chuckling and cachina- 
tion was visible among the young ladies collected 
about the stove. 

Tlie Hector shook his head dubiously, smiled a 
little, and said he thought that they had better 
take tire angel down. With that, he wished them 
a good morning, and returned to the composition 
of the sermon. The moment that Mr. Tubingen 
descended from the ladder, the young giils began 


ST. BAKDOLPIl’s. 


281 


to twit and to teaze him about the green-baize 
angel. They reported what had been hinted at, as 
to the artistic merits of the angel, by the Hector of 
the Parish. Moreover, one of a sprightly nature 
began to make fun of Mr. Tubingen’s design of an 
arbour over the pulpit, and she said, “ Our minister 
will look like a man in an ice-cream garden all 
which offended the feelings of one, who at that time 
wac a great beau in the parish ; and Mr. Tubingen 
with much ill-humour placed the ladder against 
the wall, and taking the angel by his wings, and 
pulling the tacks out of his trumpet, he tore him 
down from his altitude and burned him in the stove ; 
having done which, he left the church in a huff, 
greatly jnqued at the young ladies and the Rector. 
In course of time he forgave the former, but ne did 
not readily forget what the other had hintea ab)ut 
the green-baize angel. 


282 


'IHK KKC'I’OK OF 


CIIAPTETl XXVIIT. 

THE HEALTH OF ME. ADMULLER SENSIBLY DECLINES, 
AND HE IS COMMONLY SP»'KEN OF AS SUPERANNU- 
ATED A FEW REMARKS ON BRONCHITIS THE OLD 

SEXTON OF ST. BARDOLPIl’s AN INCIDENT AT ST. 

BARDOLPh’s, and a few remarks upon TRANSIENT 
vTsrroRS. 

When we consider the incessant amount of 
preaching required of the clergy now-a-days, 
which is far more than their own good or that of 
the people demands, it is no wonder that their 
throats occasionally give out. What man in any 
other vocation would be tolerated for a sino-le 

O 

year, were he to address a stated audience in a 
stated harangue, two or three times regularly 
every week? Were there a little more praying 
and less preaching, it would he better for all 
hands. Surely one good discourse on a Sunday is 


ST. BARDOLPU’S. 


283 


all to wliich tlie preacher can do justice, or which 
the audience will digest ; whereas the demand is 
for two or three, and it is nothing but preach, 
preach, preach, to a set of listeners, the majority 
of whom, by their vacant looks, show an inex- 
pressible weariness. The consequence is a tedious 
repetition of similar ideas, and of similar illus- 
trations, which in a few years beget the desire of 
freshness and of change. When, presently, you 
have become thoroughly familiar with a man’s 
ways of thinking ; when you can anticipate 
exactly what he is going to say, or recognize 
what he has said before, though he speak from a 
full mind, his administration will not be agreea- 
ble. This does not conflict with wdiat has been 
already said of the effect of proper study, when 
no opportunity is afforded for the same. A young 
man goes into a parish, and is immediately called 
upon for his two sermons on Sunday, and a 
“ week-day lecture.” lie forthwith either travels 
in a dull round, or betakes himself to an ability 
^fbr off-hand speaking.^ This 'rei^arkable gift will 
not save him; but in the other'event, his health 
soon gives way, and vdien once gone, there is 
little hope of its being patched up. Tlie want of 
a proper elocution, the amount of speaking in 
churches badly constructed as to acoustic princi- 
ples, consumes the lungs, and tears to pieces the 


284 


THE KECTOE OF 


throats of the clergy. The bronchial tubes become 
inflamed, the mouth is lined with ulcers, and in a 
few years consumption sets in. Bronchitis has 
lately become very common, especially among 
the city clergy. If these be popular men, they 
stand some chance of recovery, because their 
congregations are wealthy, and it is too hot for 
religious services in the summer. Moreover, at 
proper intervals, their churches must be repainted 
and repaired, or it may be, rebuilded on a more 
ambitious scale. Of these intervals they make a 
proper use for the benefit of their decaying 
throats. Tlie first symptom is a little hoarseness, 
after which, although they sometimes look fat in 
the face, their voice is entirely suspended, and 
they come to a dead pause, it may be, in the 
middle of the service. Then an active sympathy 
begins lest their eloquent voices be forever 
hushed. It is found that a trip to Europe is a 
good remedy for the insidious disease, and the 
family physician testifies the same. The mer- 
chant princes advance the funds. They engage 
the meekest preachers whom they can find, to take 
their places while gone ; and, free from care, 
while their salaries run on, fly away on the wings 
of the wind. "When their furlough is up, they 
come back very much benefitted in body and 
mind. Foreign travel is no small advantage to 


ST. BAKDOLPH S. 


285 


the clergy. Books often serve to contract the 
mind more, in some part where it happens to be 
narrow, by confirming opinions and prepossessions 
already formed. By pushing out into the world, 
the ideas are enlarged, and prejudices assuaged, 
and a more healthy tone is acquired. But with 
respect to curing the bronchitis, they would 
derive as much good, and be subjected to far less 
expense, by sojourning on School ey’s Mountain. 
Of that, however, no mention was made in the 
explicit directions of the family physician. They 
must obey orders, return in good health, and so 
remain until it becomes necessary to perform the 
journey again. And if they are faithful men, 
who would begrudge them this pleasant recrea- 
tion ? But with the country clergy, who work as 
hard, and are never out of the traces, the means 
of locomotion are not to be had. To jog about 
the parish with an old horse, the very appearance 
of which is enough to provoke a smile, is the 
extent of travel ; and if their throats are blistered, 
they must preach away as if they w'ere made of 
brass. "When at last shelved, their place is sup- 
plied, and they are put upon the list of “ Aged 
and Indigent Clergy,” for whom a collection is 
taken up in the churches once every year. From 
this contingency they shrink as they would from 
going to the poor-house. 


286 


THE KECTOR OF 


The cause of bronchitis has never been ade- 
quately ascertained. Some attribute it to the com- 
mon use of anthracite coal, others to exposure and 
sudden changes of weather ; but it is certainly on 
the increase since steam-navigation began. There 
are many of us who desire to get a sight of West- 
minster Abbey, but we stay at home and attend to 
our duties within sight of our deformed cliurches 
with their ugly steeples, although we are labouring 
under bronchitis. 

Had Mr. Admuller attended to the invitation, 
long since given, to a city church, and had he be- 
come likewise enfeebled in health, he would have 
been sent, like many of his brethren, by the gene- 
rosity of parishioners, to foreign climes. As it 
was, the expenses of his family hardly permitted 
him to budge even on a short journey ; and anxiety 
for their support was an additional drawback. 
When he was a young man, his salary and perqui- 
sites were ample ; but for years past they sufficed 
only by a rigid economy. He had not the bron- 
chitis, but a deep and settled cough contracted 
during a severe winter, and which he strove in 
vain to palliate or heal. Ilis family physician, a 
devoted Churchman, and a good friend, began to 
feel no little anxiety, and enjoined his positive 
commands. lie must cease awhile from his paro- 
chial duties, he must divest his mind from care, 


ST. BAKDOLI'U’S. 


287 


lie must depart upon a journey. Gladly would 
lie liave said, “ Go and visit tlie continent of 
Europe for a few months. The sea voyage will 
abate or cure the cough, and the enlivening influ- 
ence of new scenes will cause a reaction, and a 
renovation of the physical man.” He knew that 
this was out of the question, and suggested it not. 
But when every Sunday’s exertion pulled his 
friend back, and he lost all which had been 
gained during the week, he told him in plain 
terms that he must cease awhile from his minis- 
trations, or he would forever cease. “ Then,” 
said the Hector, “ I shall at least die in the 
harness. I shall wear out, not rust out. I am 
unable to follow your good admonitions.” 

The jihysician took up his hat, and said that 
such obstinacy would cost him dear. It needed 
little prescience to know the result. Mr. Admul- 
ler kept on. His wife hung with fond solicitude 
over him as he lay day by day wretched and 
enfeebled on a sofa, or guided the pen over the 
paper with a trembling hand. On Sunday morn- 
ing, when the bell tolled, it was with a painful 
exertion that he roused himself for a slio^’t walk 
to St. Bardolph’s Church. 

The old sexton, as he arranged his surplice, 
shook his head, and remarked with sorrow his 
sunken cheeks and hacking cough. He would 


288 


THE RECTOR OF 


say, with his hand upon the knob, as he reluc- 
tantly opened the vestry door, “ your Reverence 
is too ill to preach to-day,’’ — and as he glided in 
like a ghost, he said to himself, “ he will not long 
be here. He is going the v^ay of all living. 
The poor will miss him sadly when he is gone.” 
And he would go up, sit upon his chair by the 
bell rope, and sigh. The sexton was distinguish- 
ed by a precise and formal attention to the duties 
of his place, which he had held for forty years. 
How gingerly would he glide through the aisle in 
softest slippers ! — how delicately would he creep 
up on tip-toe, and whisper a message in the 
Rector’s ear ! With what official importance would 
he recal the physician from his pew when there 
was urgent, need! With what sacred tutelage 
would he bear the basket which contained the 
communion-service on his arm, and as he put it 
down, first peep reverently under the snow-white 
napkin, then lift it slowly from the polished cup 
and paten ! With what a succession of politest 
bows would he guide the stranger to a pew I 
How kindly would he up and remonstrate with 
the woman with the crying child, and if it kept 
on talking aloud take it from her arms as it strug- 
gled violently and kicked his stomach, crying all 
the while, “ I’ll be good. I’ll be good 1” How 
carefully was his eye fixed upon the crazy vaga 


BT. BARDOLPh’s. 


289 


be id wLo would sometimes stray in ! How 
would he sit in the belfry with his corpulent 
silver watch in his palm, until the minute hand 
reached the half hour dot, and then seize the rope 
coiled at his feet, and placing his foot thereon, 
cause the bell to send forth the requisite number of 
vibrations on the air 1 How solemnly did he 
make it toll ! When service was over, how scru- 
pulously would he collect the contributions from 
the plate, place the books aright, close the pew- 
doors, lock and double-lock the church, and as he 
went out of the gate, turn round to take a look to 
see that the steeple was firm ! While he held 
office, the seats were well-dusted, the tablets free 
from cobwebs, and the mats which lay in the 
portico well beaten out. When at the funeral he 
three times severally sprinkled the earth upon the 
coffin, to the touching words, “ Earth to earth, 
ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” he shook his solemn 
head, and was a standing essay on mortality. 
There was great weight in his words to the 
ofiending urchin who too thoughtlessly sported 
around graves. “ Young man ! remember that 
you must at some day come to this !” — Oh ! how 
many and how many did he commit most decently 
to the dust before he was gathered to the narrow 
house appointed for all living. If any man had 
earned for himself a respectful burial, a long train 
13 


290 


THE KEOTt^K OF 


of mourners, a not too hasty conimittai ... i 
putting away fi’om human sight, lie was the mail. 
But he was not so well huned at last as he buried 
others. The duty was committed to a raw hand, 
who rudely raked the eaibh upon his grave, and 
few attended his burial, and no stone marks the 
spot where he lies. The sexti.ui was one of those 
very few who are found just in sufficient numbers 
to fultil the wants of every community, and to 
-him could be entrusted with all confidence the 
sacred necessary office of laying out the dead. 
For he would dispose their limbs as gently and 
as tenderly as those of a sleeping child, and draw 
upon them the funereal cerements like the cur- 
tains of a couch ; and when the task was done, he 
would stoop low, and gazing silently for a moment 
on the rigid features of some well-known face, go 
his way in lowly sorrow, and with a sigh. Oh, 
good Mr. Fennel ! the sexton has degenerated 
sadly of late, because it is to be feared that rev- 
erence is on the wane. It is an old-school virtue, 
an obsolete quality, put aside by the rushing 
hurry of the age. The course of life is so precip- 
itate that there is no time for the slow and some- 
what elabc ate formality which decency requires. 
Let the dead bury their dead ! 

I know not why I have made so little mention 
of the sexton until now, unless it naturally occurs 


«T. BARDOLPH'S. 


291 


that 1 have reaclicd a period in the narrative sug- 
gesting that his services might he required. lie 
was one of tlie best friends whom tlie Eector liad, 
and tliere was an unmistakable sincerity a)id sor- 
row in his look when he said, “ Your Eeverence 
is too ill to preach to-day.” lie said, “ Your 
Reverence,” because he was from the old coun- 
try, and did not belong to the race of sextons who 
impertinently remark to the rectors that they are 
hired by the vestry, and who go about their busi- 
ness as a seiwant would brush out a parlour, or an 
Iiostler a stable. 

When Mr. Admuller ascended the pulpit or the 
desk, the opening sentences were so feebly ut- 
tered, that he could scarce be heard. But as he 
went on he gathered more than wonted energy, 
and never was the cadence of his voice more . 
sweet. Rever, moreover, were his appeals more 
touching or eloquent, for they derived a patlios 
irom his sorrowful estate. 

He spoke as one would from the borders of the 
grave. There was an indescribable force and 
meaning conveyed even by the uplifting of his 
attenuated hand. Many weiit away in tears from 
his discourse, with the same feeling as if they had 
taken counsel of the dying, while the word spread 
from mouth to mouth, “ How ill he looks ! how he 


292 


TUE EECTOE OF 


is fallen away ! It would not be surprising if he 
did not live a great while.” 

Others remarked, “ what is to become of his 
wife and family? They have pretty high -notions 
— they would not like to come ujion the parish ; 
and even if they would, it could do little for them 
It is as much as they can do now to give a suitable 
salary to the clergyman of the parish.” 

Week after week did their minister address them 
in the same gentle, persuasive tones, with no lack 
of the mental power which had distinguished his 
best days; but as- to the disaffected part of his 
flock, if the Angel Gabriel had blown his trumpet 
it would have been without effect. Those who do 
not wish to be pleased, are more provoked still if 
they do not find any just occasion of displeasure, 
and several persons took occasion of his precarious 
liealth to proclaim it abroad that he was super- 
annuated. 

One of the very best illustrations of the 
selfishness of human nature is in this very charge 
which is brought against some one or other every 
day. Let robust men in good position beware. 
Let them cut off’ their whiskers when they become 
gray, root out the silvery crop upon their heads, 
and by all means keep their family bible^ under 
lock and key. As they get on in life, there will 
be a growing and impertinent curiosity to find out 


ST. bardolph’s. 


293 


their age, and they will sometimes be asked the 
direct question, “ how old are you ?” The motive 
will be to detract from their merits, if they have 
any. But if their merits are so acknowledged that 
they cannot be touched, the very fact of a^e, if 
once established by the register, will be the only 
argument required. To-day a man is in the prime 
of life, to-morrow he will feel as young as to-day, 
but the gently gliding stream bears him alo.ng, 
unconscious. Those, however, who stand fixed on 
the bank, as it were, in the stability of youth, cry 
out, “ there goes an old craft.” For I have some- 
times been amused, nay, saddened, to behold this 
trait in the most worldly troop of professed poli- 
ticians. With what eagerness do they notch each 
unit upon the stick ! With what an inward 
chuckle of delight do they chronicle an up])roach 
to the complement of years, and almost sing poeans 
when the ordinary terminus of life is approached liy 
some. Nay, they shake the old man’s hand, they 
wish him joy, they pour wine in the cups of gratula- 
tion ! But let such a man once get into his bed at tlii.t 
age, with what would be a mere transient unwell- 
ness, and they will kill him off as surely oS c; 
butcher knocks down the king of the herd. As me 
veteran lies in his bed, only needing tonics, a good 
physician, a kind nurse, and the cheerful encom- 


294 : 


THE KECTOR OF 


agemeot of a few friends to bring him on his Ugs^ 
and reads his morning paper, which is brought t 
liim on the wings of the wind, the first words that 
meet his eye are whimpering with the saddest 
tidings of himself. It is narrated on unquestion- 
able authority that his end rapidly draws near 
Every day as he reads tlie precious bulletins, h' ' 
heart sinks within him, lie falls back on his pillow, 
and faintly breathes his last. Now the next time, 
oh, newspapers ' that we have a great mai’. in this 
country, if we ever have any more, pray let him 
take his own time in getting old, and if he gets 
sick in his bed, for mercy’s sake do not render the 
prescriptions of his physicians abortive by your 
insight into the future, and your foregone con- 
clusions. 

But tne charge of superannuated is incurred by 
all classes as soon as the gloom of coming ^ ears 
affords a shadow of excuse. When other thipg^ 
failed, th.s was brought up against the Hector of 
St. Bardolph’s. That at least he was getting pretty 
well along in years, that his better course would be 
a timely resignation — and then there were many 
who would see what could be done for him — what 
could be done for him ! 

Think you that such promise could be trusted on 
the part of those who made it ? Not a word of it. 
They wanted but the power of the keys to mak^ 


ST. BARDOLPH S. 


295 


him feel with still more poignant grief the evils of 
abject dependence, and to withdraw the support 
and allegiance which were in justice due, so long 
as he performed his duty. 

Superannuated ! Tliere was surely as yet no 
ground for this unfeeling charge against the Rector 
of St. Bardolph’s. Ilis eye was not dimmed, nor 
was his natural force of intellect abated. They 
glowed more brightly and with a purer lustre as 
tlie vase which held the oil appeared more fragile. 
With what a withering sense does this insinuation 
come upon the ears of those w'ho feel their hearts 
yet thrill with warm affections, and that the 
approach of age, which makes indeed the almond 
tree to flourish, has left their better powers unpal- 
sied. The hale old man denies the imputation by 
the erectness of his carriage, by his early rising to 
behold the sun, by his lengthened walks, by his 
disregard of luxurious chairs and soft cushions, 
ile M’ho is only elderly laughs the charge to scorn 
by wielding heavy weights, and by transcending 
exertion. But neither age nor failure are required 
to render void the melancholy truth. lie who has 
outlived the friends who loved him best, or moves 
in the sphere where he cannot fulfil his former 
usefulness, may be a young man still, yet su'per- 
annuated. The grizzly sexton was not obnoxious 
to the charge ; but as he older grew, they liked 


296 


THE KEUTOK OF 


him better ; nor woulJ his day be past, so long as 
he could dig a grave or shave the faces of the 
dead. But in the sense which I have mentioned, 
the sick and wounded Rector bow'ed his head, and 
acquiesced. 

Superannuated 1 Was it come to this? Oh, Sir 
John ! could you return to the parish once again, 
where, with the exception of yon added graves and 
the more ancient ivy, the external state of things 
remained the same, what would you think of this 
sad defection ? It seems but yesterday since you 
entered wdth respect into yonder pew, and placing 
your iiat before your eyes, said a silent prayer. 
Could another word from your Baronettish mouth 
restore the flush of health or meed of approbation 
to the once popular young man ? He was, in fact, 
dead, and 

Cum semel occideris et de te Splendida Minos 
Fecerit arbitria, 

Non Torquate, genus, non te facundia, non te 
Restituet pietas. 

To adapt this by a free and easy translation, 
Horatius forgive me, to the purpose : — 

“ When his day is gone by, and this kind of ver- 
dict is clearly pronounced against a clergyman, it 
matters not how good his position, how excellent a 


ST. BAEDOLPIl’s. 297 

prea<jher, or how pious a man, there is no such 
thing as getting back to their good graces.” 

It was a summer day, and the church was full of 
people. Tho places of the absentees and the disaf- 
fected were occupied by strangers, for at that time 
(as they do now) the citizens of New York, in 
warm w’eather, eagerly pressed to the beautiful 
coui ty of Westchester. This emigration, in the 
steady and immense increase of the city, has become 
very great, and all available and pleasant rustic 
quarters in the vicinity are pre-engaged every 
season for months in advance. After these people 
haTJc secured rooms, from the windows of which 
tfiev may look upon a fair prospect, and enjoy tho 
sentiment of being in the country, while many 
experience a coldness and a comfort very inferior 
to that which they have at home, the first thing 
which they do is to secure a sitting in the church, for 
the majority of them go there in a carriage on Sunday 
morning. In the afternoon the ladies go to sleep, 
and the men sit or. the piazza smoking a cigar, 
reading a newspaper or a novel, or lie on the grass 
on their backs, with their feet against a willow- 
tree, as they look upon the clergyman pass- 
ing by, and recruiting their exhausted faculties 
for a drive or boating excursion, as the sun sets 
low. After having satisfied their appetites on 
13 * 


298 


TUE KECTOR OF 


green peas, string-beans, tomatoes, bi oiled cl io.:- 
ens, and so forth, and having found fault with the 
whole dinner, and especially the dessert, which 
has not been served up to them according to the 
fulness and etiquette of a printed bill of fare, they 
endeavour in this way to restore their good humour, 
and provide a digestion for the past, and an ap] o- 
tite for the coming meal. Many of these strangers, 
as they happen to be of the right kind, are a great 
acquisition, and some are not. With a few excep- 
tions, which ought properly to be made, the per- 
manent good which they do to the parish is no 
more than would be done by the flight of birds. 
They sometimes work a great deal of mischief, 
especially if important theological questions are 
rife, by throwing themselves into one scale or 
other of politics, as it happens to preponderate. 
They ought to have the delicacy, being strangers, 
to mind thejr own business, and take advantage of 
the sea-bathing and pleasant drives. The half 
dollars which they throw into the plate are no 
recompense for the evil which they do, if they do 
not remain perfectly quiet, according to their 
intentions when they came into the country. This 
allusion is made because it occurs just in the nick 
of time, for the benefit of those to whom it pertains. 
It does not ajiply to all sea-bathers or rusticating 
citizens, or even to a majority of them, but to some ; 


ST BAEDOLPll’s. 


299 


for mere charity’s sake, let us say to a few. We 
think that no right-minded person will be oftended, 
if these be characterised, to whichever sex they 
may belong, as busy-bodies, intruders and inter, 
meddlers. If they be men, they are not gentle- 
men ; if women, they have sadly transgressed their 
proper sphere. 

It was a summer morning, and the weather was 
hot and stifling. Several of the windows of the 
church could not be raised, because the sashes 
stuck fast, while of others, the cords which passed 
over the pullies had become broken. The fanning 
was industrious and incessant, and the number of 
wands in constant motion, of palm-leaf, feathers, or 
paper; some of them highly ornamented and 
ancestral, miglit alone have diverted attention 
One fainting fit occuiTed at an early stage of the 
service, and tlie subject was carried out with much 
commotion. Scarcely had this subsided when the 
Rector himself was observed to look unwell. As 
he read that solemn and fervent invocation of the 
Litany, “ By Thine agony and bloody sweat ; by 
Thy Cross and Passion” — his voice faltered, his 
knees trembled beneath him, and turning as pale 
as ashes, he sank down softly in his white vest- 
ments, within the chancel rails. Alarm spread 
itself through the assembly, and rising from their 
scats, all pressed with one consent around the 


300 


THE EECTOE OF 


fallen man. With difficulty the physician foiced 
his way through the anxious crowd, and then, amid 
cries of “ fall back,” “ give him air,” “ is he dead ? 
is he dead ?” — and the weeping and lamentation of 
aged women, he knelt down at his side and felt his 
pulse. There was a solemn pause, uninterrupted 
for a few seconds, during which you could almost 
hear the tears dropping. There were old and 
young, manly brows wrinkled by anxiety, uplifted 
hands, all concentrated in one group. The Rector’s 
wife, who looked already widowed, assiduously 
bathed his brow. The physician, with his head 
and eyes turned aslant, as if in abstraction, still 
held his finger at the pulse, and while this was 
done it was a matter of uncertainty whether the 
patient were alive or dead ! 

It would not be the first or second time that 
faithful men have thus breathed out their life in 
the very courts of the Lord’s house, passing 
immediately from its vestibule to the golden 
streets, to the fuller and more transporting worship 
of the angels of heaven. 

At last, the pulse which had fluttered feebly and 
stood still, gave one sudden, regurgitating throb, 
and life returned. A visible sensation, a long- 
drawn sigh, escaped from the audience, when the 
suspense was ended, as the pastor slowly opened 
his dim eyes, and smiled on those present, like 


8T. BARDOLPH^b. 


301 


one awakened from a dream. In a moment after, 
when he became enough collected to know what 
was going on, it was observed that out of his eyes 
there gushed tears. He was then lifted up in the 
arms of the sexton and the physician, and deposit- 
ed in his own bed in the Kectory. “ I do not 
think that we will have him long,” remarked one 
of the by-standers. 

On the next Sunday the doors of St. Bardolph’e 
church were closecl. 



802 


THE EECTOK OE 


' CHAPTEE XXIX. 

IN WHICH A CURSOKT EEVIEW IS TAKEN OF TOE 
EECTOe’s HISTOEY, EEVEAEING some FEESH CAUSES 
OF COMPLAINT. 

I MUST review briefly the Eector’s career. When 
he first came into the parish, he wa, oil! how 
popular 1 — a gifted, courted, a sincere iii'/J 'Darnest 
youth, with an ardour attempered ’ y correct judg- 
ment. Every year he improved in virtue and 
knowledge, and having arrived at a point of life 
when he could most effectually pro:''ot- the c -use of 
God and man, his availability '.iai- go-.o. ‘'j' a 
few drops of colour will sully u Lingo \ ure 

crystal goblet, so a few elern'^nt- :f liiiarection 
spoil the genuine loyalty of a nnlrn. Yo'i who 
are such sticklers for the “ rights of lino laity,” as 
if you were afraid of being trampled upon, gentle 
sheep in the wilderness, as you are ! by the dra- 


ST. BARDOLPU’S. 


803 


goon-like hoofs of the shepherd, set over you, (no 
doubt rendered nervous by a dim reminiscence of 
the Popes of Pome !) — you, pastors, on the other 
hand, who are apprehensive of being run over and 
butted down by the multitudinous flocks of your 
own sheep, while attempting to drive them, as you 
oometimes temerariously do, into a gate — inquire 
whose fault it was. Was the Rector of St. Bar- 
dolph’s to blame because the distinguished Pipper- 
ell and the influential Tubingen wished him to 
resign — because the Williwillows forsook him — and 
the sweet Mrs. Spangles was but an equivocal 
friend — because several others were heartily tired 
of him, and with all his discretion, he was hardly 
better otf than his eccentric friend of St. John’s- 
in-the-Wilderness ? Was he to blame? Some- 
what, dear brethren of the clergy and the laity; 
After “ prayerful consideration,” after having 
studied out the topic “ on our knees,”' although 
being forced to the conclusion with “ great pain,” 
and we dismally “ reluct” to bring any thing 
against our “ dear brother-in-the-Lord,” we are fain 
to think it. “ Well, how so ? Was he not, in the 
only proper sense of the word, evangelical ? that is 
to say, did he not preach without reserve, and in 
all their magnificent fulness, the doctrines of the 
Word of God, and that, too, after the very straitest 
interpretation of the Church — which by the 


304 


THE KECTOE OF 


uature of bis vows, he bad acknowledged to be the 
pillar and ground of the Truth ?” 

Oh, certainly ; he did not claim for himself 
exclusively to do so, which might possibly have 
led him to the height of an intolerably impudent 
spiritual pride ; but Christ was to him, and com- 
mended by him to others as “ all in all,” “ our only 
help in every time of need.” The w’hole burden 
of his discourse, most assuredly was — N^one but 
Chkist — KONE BUT Christ. There were some, 
indeed, who did object latterly, but of that, more 
anon. For it is lamentable, yet true, that accord- 
ing to the ways of thinking which prevail, you 
may select two men — one will be honest, earnest, 
hard-working, going into his Master’s vineyard in 
the morning, and toiling until night, spending his 
strength, (for nought?) performing all the real 
offices and duties, as a Christian, which spring 
from the ordinary relations of life ; the other, alas, 
indolent, do-little, eleemosynary, with his hand 
always outstretched to receive, conferring nothing, 
lying upon his oars, but with soothing, comforting 
words for old women at their knitting ; well fur- 
nished wdth such expressions as “ the Lord will” — 
“ God willing” — “ my dear, dear friend” : and 
now mark ! the first will be called a mere formal- 
ist, and without the root of the matter, a man 
devoid of vital religion ; the other, in the language 


8T. EAKDOLPll’s. 


305 


of good old Father Martiinas, (now perhaps with 
God,) will have the reputation of being very 
“ spee7'it'iial-ly minded !” Let God be the Judge ! 
But it might be with truth alleged against the 
Hector that he had not enough apparent warmth 
of manner. He did not, except when he ascended 
the sacred desk, make it sufficiently plain that his 
affections were outflowing continually in the direc- 
tion of his fellow men ; he was, in conduct, too 
reserved, and too much in company of his books, 
his duodecims, his octaves, his folios, his “ darling 
folios” ; taking the trouble, even, to discourse with 
them beyond midnight, when he would not talk 
three minutes with a living man of this generation 
in the middle of the day. 

A clergyman must not be absent minded, wan- 
dering among the refined spirits of a former age, 
w’hen he ought to be ready to laugh^ and talk 
with the immediate generation. The people do 
not like it, and both for his own sake and for theirs 
he should have his eyes wide open, and look with 
vivacity on the objects which are around him. lie 
must be ready to grasp agreeable women by the 
hand, and to pat pretty children upon the head, 
although even that may sometimes be used as an 
argument against him ; for, “ When you want to 
beat a dog, it is easy to find a stick.” What a 


306 


TllE KECTOIi OF 


capital old proverb that is I I wish that I had made 
it. 

Mr. Admuller, as I have said, had seen “ men 
and cities.” Still, by reason of temperament, his 
knowledge had the efiect of making him too 
reserved. Herein, I think that he erred. But 
what wonder that pure and noble spirits gradually 
retire to an inward communing with themselves ? 
The most public men, growing old, yearn for a 
sacred privacy. One by one the strong-knit bonds 
of love are snapped, and the cup of pleasure 
dashed, before the silver cord of life is loosed, and 
before the golden bowl is broken. 

Oh ! it is only a transient and superficial know- 
ledge of mankind which draws forth regard ; for 
when you come to know them better, “ familiarity 
breeds contempt.” lie who has been often stung 
by ingratitude, or repulsed at the threshold of his 
holiest and most cordial love, begins to cherish an 
antipathy for some, ora morbid aversion to all. This 
cynic feeling is not right, and ought to be repressed. 
Remember that as you know, so you must be 
known. To feel a sovereign contempt of men, is to 
argue that you are perfect yourself. Ho one 
lives, who if thoroughly understood, would not be 
severely frowned on or despised. "When, there- 
fore, you have discovered that which is verj 
eeraurable in those whom you once esteemed 


ST. BAEDOLPH S. 


307 


immaculate, keep not aloof to let the fire of 
aflection dwindle, and the spark go out. ]S^ay, do 
not stand too far behind the bars of decent formal- 
ism ; let the earlier proof of something good be 
weighed against transgression, and in the intercourse 
of men, preserve a cheerful countenance with 
those who in the leniency of Christian charity 
may not have sinned as much as you. 

I have already spoken of great changes in the 
parish ; but I farther state that by this time the 

character of the population in the town of M 

had become almost totally changed, and for the 
worse. A new generation sprang up, more money- 
making, more heartless, less refined — and one 
feature in the progress of its society, or one lamen 
table defect was, a want of veneration, or, rather, 
of decent respect for the old. I do not refer to 
any blinded zeal or affectation for mere antiquity. 
This is an amiable weakness, a pleasant foible. 
It was an unfilial conduct, like that of a child in 
the plenitude of infantile strength, who, with its 
du ipy hands pushes away the milky bosom which 
has nourished it. You see this spirit, at present, 
still more advanced. It arises from the rancorous 
growth of Infidelity, not from the amazing energies 
and quickly succeeding phases of a new land. 
The young men here, are soon disposed to take 
matters into their own hands ; they give nicknames 


308 


THE HECTOR OF 


to their predecessors who have not adapted them^ 
selves at once to new modes ; they push aside the 
fixtures which are supposed to stand in their way, 
and mock at Elisha. 

Mr. Yan Sittart observed when the Rector first 
came to the parish, a slight peculiarity in his utter- 
ance, not unpleasant after a little acquaintance. 
This criticism was correct, and it is only fair 
to remark that this, in the progress of age had 
become confirmed into mannerism, and might be 
readily noticed by those who were disposed to find 
ing fault. There are many preachers who were 
popular when they were young, who, for the 
neglect of some trifie like this, are turned into 
ridicule when they get old ; and you will often 
find a congregation of very shallow men whose 
asinine ears twitch nervously, and are arrected to a 
degree of sharpness by the progress of music and 
the ticklement of Italian airs. Therefore it is a 
matter of high importance to put pebbles in your 
mouths, to walk upon the shore, and elocutionize 
to the raging and roaring surf. You might as well 
discourse to the ocean in a storm, as to fashionable 
or well-cushioned seats, if there is no honey on 
your lips. 

One day, about this period of his history, the 
Rector repeated his celebrated crack sermon. Its 
merit was not recognized at all by the disaffected 


ST. bakdolph’s. 


30i< 

portion of his flock, but they made the same 
remark as usual, that it was, to them, heathen 
Greek. Indeed, it is really useless to attempt to 
analyse the petty causes why you do not admire a 
man, when you do not pretend that there is 
reason, only the fact is so. 

“ I do not like thee, Doctor Fell, 

The reason why I cannot tell, 

But this I know, and know full well, 

I do not like thee. Doctor Fell.” 

I cannot, however, forbear to allude to one topic 
which had to do with the present state of things at 
St. Bardolph’s, and that was the gradual growth of 
party feeling in the church. It was first engen- 
dered in the State, where it waxed more and more 
violent, until it pervaded all orders, reached tne 
sacred vestibule, and, like a vindictive spirit, 
hovered over the very altars of Eeligion, and 
frightened away the Holy Dove. Before tlie Rev- 
olution, our church occupied a precarious position. 
The arms of the Venerable Society were stretched 
toward it, but ft-om afar — and though it derived its 
nourishment thence, this was but equal to keep it 
alive. Feeble and alone, it was jostled somewhat 
harshly by surrounding bodies. To be tolerated, 
was all which was expected. The ministers who 


310 


TIIK REGTOE OF 


watched over it, were but missionaries, ordained 
abroad. Wiien they were cut off, the resource 
must be sought again from beyond the wave, 
unless self-ordination were resorted to. 

When the clouds had cleared away from the 
political horizon, the prospect brightened but a 
little ; nay, it grew darker for the churches which 
had been planted in this realm. The fostering 
hand was now withdrawn, while toleration was not 
greater than before. A civil liberty to worship 
God according to the dictates of the conscience, 
may be supplanted and annulled by popular, 
hooting prejudice, or by vindictive scorn, which 
“ shuts the gates of mercy on mankind.” The 
adherents of our church were looked at with rather 
a jealous eye, as sons of royalty, whose hearts and 
feelings were with the old regime. The mother- 
church was not untrammelled, or so free to act, 
that she could readily afford the boon now needed ; 
nor were the churches here as yet prepared to 
receive. 

When this temporary interdict was taken off, 
and Episcopal Ordination was obtained at the 
hands of the English Church, there sprang up a 
race of mild, beneficent, and admirable bishops, 
whose memories are embalmed in the earliest 
annals of the American Church. But with these 
men, owing to the necessity of the times, a 


ST. BARDOLni'S. 


311 


stringent control was impossible. One by one, 
they passed away to their reward, when suddenly 
there appeared upon the church’s walls a prelate, 
who entered 'upon his rightful functions with an 
immediate vigour of administration, and an exe- 
cutive ability, which startled friends and foes. 
He was a blending of the rarest elements of 
manly greatness. Emergency did not so much 
produce him as he produced emergency, and 
precipitated crisis. lie seemed the very man 
ordained by God to rule over discordant materials, 
to separate the light from darkness, to restrict the 
overflowing floods in channels, and to proclaim the 
reign of Unity and Apostolic Order. There was 
a short silence and calm at the first splendour 
of his apf)earance, when with a most violent 
shock," all the waves of opposition surged and beat 
against this bulwark of the Church. Firm as the 
Eock on which he stood, he waved his hand above 
the troubled elements, wdth all the powerful will 
of a Dictator, but he controlled with all the 
tenderness of a Father Ins sons. lie had an 
insight and a splendid knowledge of, and a laying 
to heart, of those grand and sweeping maxims, 
which are laid up as in a rich treasure-house in the 
Word of God. lie had a marvellous power to 
refer at once the commonest acts, as by divinest 
instinct, to some sound, and valid, and substantial. 


312 


THE KECTOR OF 


and far-stretching Christian principle. If his bodily 
actions gave the idea of ubiq^nity, his mind trav- 
elled proportionate!}’’, fast and far. His horizon 
was immense. With a lightning glance, and wdth 
a scope which few eyes have, he arrived at the 
most remote result. Then was his position taken, 
and his language was like that of the warrior who 
placed his face to the foe : 

“ Come one, come all, this rock shall fly 
From its firm base as soon as I.” 

What wonder that the grasp and compreuensio' . 
of such a mind, should provoke remark from those 
cooped up in prejudice, and win the name of 
narrow bigot from the very men who could not see 
as far as you could cast a stone. They'battled for 
petty things, matters of merely apparent good, or 
of intrinsic indifference. He looked beyond. 

Such men always will be the objects of a 
rasping opposition, not unfrequently on the part 
of others whose sincerity is genuine as their own. 
But this is a noble strife — an agitation which 
makes the elements clear. Yes, it is an angel 
which goes down at certain times and troubleth 
the waters. Perhaps no man, in sharp encounter, 
ever so immediately or successfully put down his 
foes by mere moral force. This is the best kind 
of tyranny, a leonine, a Napoleonic power. The 


ST. BAEDOLPIl’s. 


313 


liattle is nDt Always lo the strong, and those whose 
nltiinate success is sure, too often bequeath it as a 
rich legacy to their heirs. 

As to Envy, Hatred, and Malice, that bad trio, 
or Coalition, which in the way of open attack or 
hypocritical profession of friendship always aim at 
ev'ery man of mark, the new Bishop had to meet 
the assaults of these too, as well as of his more 
open and generous adversaries. And it is a part 
of the tactics of such, if they have not power of 
logic to subdue the principles, to endeavour to 
prostrate the man. This qxiasi victoiw is complete 
enough to satisfy the foe. The man it is who is 
the object of their enmity. But if it be a sorrow- 
ful sight to look upon the brave old oak succumb- 
ing to the blow, a forest of young saplings will 
rise up on the very spot to avenge the deed. And 
as one of our own poets has said : — 

“ God of the forest’s solemn shade, 

The grandeur of the lonely tree 
That wrestles singly with the gale, 

Lifts up imploring arms to thee. 

“ But more majestic far they stand 

When side by side in ranks they form. 

And wave on high their plumes of green. 

And fight their battles with the storm. 

A man of force may often mould the plastio 
U 


314 


THE RECTOR OF 


elements about him for the present, but truest 
greatness controls the ages which are to come. 

Of this prelate it may be said, that he ‘‘ being 
dead, yet s})eaketh,” and the principles which he 
advocated have, and ever will have, a grappling 
hold on the American Church. The impress of 
his lofty mind is yet every where distinct and 
indelible, and posterity will revere the name of 
John Henry Hobart. 

Now observe : — there were men exercising a 
petty tyranny, who, if they could not overcome the 
powerful man, wore both willing and able to 
coerce, distress, or if need be, ruin those of the less 
protected sort, who as well from honest conviction, 
as from a principle of high-minded allegiai^ce, were 
resolved to stand by thoir Pisho; ! 


8T. BAIiDOLPH’s. 


315 


CHAPTER XXX. 

WHICH KECOUNTS AN INTEEKtrPTION AT DINNE’i, jV.-) 
THE KINDNESS OF THE REV. DR. GONIMBLE.. ; N * A 
SHORT ACCOUNT OF THE LAST DAYS OF THE RECTOR 
OF ST. BARDOLPIl’s. 

The worthy Rector o^ St. Pancras Church, in 
the city of Xew-Yorh, was entertaining a party of 
clerical friends at dinner, who had just seated 
themselves at uis hospitable board. They ,were 
eight in number, and though they had all been 
afflicted with the bronchitis, they were at present 
in good health and spirits, and prepared to do 
moderate justice to the good fare set before them. 
There was hardly one of them who had not seen 
the inside of St. Paul’s and Westminster Abbey, 
London, ‘nd of St. Peter’s Church, at Rome. 
One, Mr. Ainslie, was the Rector of St. Barnabas’ 
Church, to which the Rev. -Mr. Admuller had 


THE EECTOS OF 


3ie 

once received “ a call.” This worthy man was fat 
and healthy, and his laugh cheerful and hilarious 
in the extreme. He was a great favourite with his 
people, and the extra accumulation of fat upon his 
bones might have been owing to the fact that he 
had been enjoying a vacation of six months, during 
which time he had drank of various mineral waters, 
breathed the pure air of mountain-tops, been in 
vigorated by the sea breeze, and travelled ot 
the lakes. In the interim his church had been 
pulled down, and the ground sold, (vaults and 
toinb-st)nes included,) and a splendid Gothic edi- 
fice erected at the court end of the town. It was 
to be consecrated in the following w^eek. During 
his absence his life had been insured by his con- 
gregation for a round sum, lest he should be blown 
up on board of some steam-boat, and his family^ 
consisting of a wife and fifteen interesting children, 
be left destitute. I say that this company had 
been seated a few minutes, and the host had just 
inquired of the aforesaid gentleman which part of 
the turkey he preferred, when an alarming ring at 
the street-door bell was heard. 

The guests exchanged glances, as much as to 
say — “ some interruption ma}' now be expected. 
One of the country clergy has arrived, bag and 
baggage. Some converted Israelite is here for 
signature to his papejs That terrible pest, Mrs. 


ST. BARDOLPilS. 


317 


Fardel, is going about begging ; she teases the ir ■v 
chants in their counting-houses, and the clergy ^ 
their closets. It is probably the Tlev. Mr. Brindles^ 
who is soliciting funds to build a new church in 
North Western Territory. His people have dole 
all they can, and even made great sacrifices, and 
now confidently appeal to their brethren in more 
favoured regions of the Lord’s heritage.” 

The good-humoured host, however, merely said, 
as he cut off a slice of the breast : 

“ John, tell them that I am at dinner.” 

John presently returned with a sealed note. 

“ Has the inessenger gone V 

“ Yes.” 

The company breathed more free.y. 

“ Excuse me,” said the doctor, running his eyes 
hastily over the writing. The purport of it was 
this : 

“The Eev. Mr. AdmuPer is ill at Washington 
Hotel, and would be glad to see the Rev. Dr. Go- 
uimbles at his earliest convenience.” 

The host smiled. “ Gentlemen, I must lea/e 
you. A case of sichness — but perhaps I s^all 
soon return. In the mean time, make yourselves 
at home. Mr. Ainslie, do me the favour to piv^ide 
in stead ” 

And he went upon his errand with all viiling- 
ness and alacrity, taking with him portable 


318 


THE EECTOR OF 


• 

rosewood case, containing a beautiful golden 
communion service, the gift of a pious woman now 
with God. 

He remembered Mr. Admuller well, for he was 
one of those who had laid their hands on his head 
when he was consecrated to the priesthood. He 
recalled the promise of his youthful and flowering 
talents, and the expectations entertained of him ; 
and he knew well that he had more than fulfilled 
them all. It is true that his position had been 
comparatively humble ; but he had shone in it like 
a flxt/1 Hx)d central light, and “ his praise was in 
all the churches.” Doctor Gonimbles occupied a 
place of commanding influence, and was well 
deserving the respect of that large congregation to 
whom he administered. He was a man of the 
kindest heart and most correct deportment. To 
the multiplicity of petitioners to which a city 
pastor is subjected, he lent a lenient and indulgent 
ear. Secure of his own position, he assumed not 
the airs of arrogant obesity, and however unreason- 
able tlieir demands, dismissed them never into the 
street with harshness, impatience, or disrespect. 
He did not abash the awkward country visitor on 
his eleemosynary call. He gave him a chance to 
be firmly and comfortably seated. He assented 
with an amiable “ to be sure !” to every otep in the 
stage of his roundabout and protracted story, 


ST. bakdolph’s. 


319 


materially assisting him at every j>ause by the 
interposition and repetition, of “ tubbe shoor,” 
In fact, the guest would suppose that the object 
of his visit was alrea<ly accomplished ; that he had 
come to the right place and in the nick of time. 
Still he had the art and delicacy to soothe the 
dreadful disappointment of such full-blown hopes 
by an emollient refusal. lie sent away the empty 
visitor beaming with smiles and charmed with hi' 
politeness. For at least having been permitted to 
rehearse his story, he knew it better, and departed 
with such freshened courage, that it is ten to one 
that he got the reputation of an accom])lished 
agent by obtaining tlm necessary funds to build a 
new church, or to purchase a new organ. 

Thus, while the Rev. Dr. Gonimbles refused to 
gratify, he even gratified in refusing, and held an 
enviable place without exciting envy. To the 
reasonable calls of friendship or of duty he never 
turned a deaf ear, nor attended to them with 
tardiness. In sickness or in trouble he was an 
ever-welcome guest. His presence, his cheering 
look, the alacrity of his conduct, the kindness of 
his words, and something even iiuthe tones and 
quality of his voice, had consolation, while from 
the treasury of Holy, Scripture he knew how to 
draw forth the most appropriate words of promi.'se 
for the wounded hearb 


320 


THE KECTOB OF 


'• He is a very comfortin’ man bj the sick bed,” 
'vas the testimony of the poor. 

I do not meiitio.t all this as any thing remarkable, 
jliis is no more than the llev. Doctor Gonimbles 
■ ' onld have been. Dut some who can preach an 
bnirable sermon, hav'e not the other faculty, 
v/hich is so essential, of blending a religious spirit 
with the clieerful intercourse of life. Moreover, 
there is an inclination on the part of clergy and 
laity to detract from merits which have been found 
ei ^.cient to elevate a man to a desirable and lofty 
place. 

While Dr. Gonimbles proceeded on his errand, 
the Dector of St. Bardolph’s lay alone, without a 
friend at his bedside, with the hum and din of the 
city about him, and at last fell into a confused and 
melancholy dream. Ills mind flitted with restless 
activity from point to point in his unambitious 
history. Now he argued in the pulpit, now toiled 
in the study on theologic subjects, until his brain 
ached ; then hearing a distinct knocking at his 
chamber door, it became a dread summons ; it 
incorporated itself as a circumstance in the events 
of a drama, which went on to evolve itself, until 
the same knocking was again heard, i^t last he 
aroused himself in the uttering of a fliint cry, 
which, with a vcntriloquial effect, seemed to come 
from some far off deep recess. Tlie door was softly 


ST. PARDOr.Pu’s. 


321 


opened, luid tli;; Kev. Dr. Goniinl)]es stood before 
him. 

“ My dear friend,” exclaimed the latter, in the 
most soothing tone, and taking him kindly by the 
hand, which he pressed. lie was indeed shocked 
at the change which had come over his friend. 
His cheeks were hollow, and almost collapsed ; his 
high brow was white as marble, and covered with 
dews, his hand was burning hot, an<l ])ulse rapid, 
as the pulse is apt to be shortly before it freezes 
and stands still. 

“ Wh}',” said he, in a tone of as gentle reproach 
as it was proper to convey to a sick man, “why do 
you come here, when you knew that my liouse 
was near at hand ?” 

A deepei’ Hush tinged the cheeks of the dying 
Rector, and his eye glistened with a momentary 
tear, for he had lately become so accustomed to 
iisaffection that his mind was morbid, and he 
imagined that he could trace in the faces of all 
men a look of aversion or disi-egard. Now he 
thought that he was uncommonly fortunate; and in 
a strange place, when he most needed, had encoun- 
tered a real friend. 

“ I am going home,” he said, pausing and smil- 
ing a little, as if struck at the double meaning of 
the phrase — “ I mean to my own family, and have 
been unexpectedly detained. But the fact is, that 
U* * 


THE EECTOE OF 


I cannot live a great while, and it embitters my 
last moments that I leave my dear wife alone and 
unprovid id for, though I have struggled for many 
}'ear8 that this contingency should not occuT. I 
have sent for you to prefer a last request that you 
will guide her in any course which she may take 
ty your advice and counsel.” 

" All which you request and more too, shall be 
done,” said the Kev. Dr. Gonimbles. 

“ I thank you from the bottom of my heart,” 
replied the licctor'of St. Bardolph’s. “ Oh, how 
kind of you to come thus early, in answer to my 
request. And now, you have removed such a 
burden from my breast, give me the last sacrament 
of the Body and Blood of Christ. So shall I sleep 
tranquilly and be fitted to resume my journey on 
the morreuv. It makes the physical life revive 
within me — that heavenly feast!” 

The Iveverend Doctor proceeded to make the 
few necessary arrangements. lie had spread the 
clean white napkin, and had broken the bread, and 
poured the wine into the golden chalice, when a 
sudden interruption took place. 

The postman knocked, and gave into bis hands 
a letter. 

“ It is from my dear wife,” said the Eector ; 
“ she is the best of women. In the most poignant 
griefs her words have been a balm to my wounded 


ST. BAKDOLPII S. 


323 


spirit. I languish to have her soothing hand upon 
mj brow. Her company in my path of duty Ijas 
made life sweet; to part with her is all which 
makes death bitter. Give me the letter, dear 
Doctor. How mercilul is God, to send such treas- 
ure by a good friend like you,” and as Dr. Gonim- 
bles stooped down, the sick man threw’ his arms 
about his neck, and pressed him to his breast. 

“ How is this ?” said he, “ the writing is not 
hers.” He tremblingly broke the seal open, read 
a few lines, threw down the missive, and buried 
his head in the j illows. 

“ I fear my dear friend has received unwelcome 
tidings,” said the Doctor. 

“ Head it,” replied the other, handing him the 
letter, “ I fear I cannot.” 

The purport of it was, tha. the Rector’s w'ifelay 
at the point of death. 

“These are unexpected tidings,” he at last 
remarked. “ How strange!” Then fixing his eye 
upon the sacred vessels, he made a motion with Ids 
hand and said, “ not now — not now. That holy 
rite must be deferred until I have nothing more to 
do with earth. At present I must make a jour- 
ney.” 

'Soon Lc cast the clothes from him; and rose up 
cahnly from his couch with all the strength and 
energy of a well man. In vain his friend pro- 


324- 


TIIH RECTOR OF 


tested, and represented that the act was suicidal ; 
nay, almost employed force to retard his motions. 
He dress*ed himself with his accustomed neatness, 
turned his key upon his trunk, and in half an 
hour, while suffering under a burning fever, was on 
his homeward journey, which was happily not 
long. The Kev. Dr. Gonimbles sat beside him. 
After riding for some distance, the Rector of St. 
Hardolpli’s broke the silence. 

“ If God sliould remove her, the separation will 
not be long. I have been absent for some weeks, 
yet it seems to me that years have elapsed. How 
changed do all things look in this neighborhood ! 
Rut,” he said, putting his hand to his head, 
“ perhaps it may be here. Hark ! methiuks 1 
hear the tolling of a bell.” 

“ I tiear nothing, my dear friend. Endeavour to 
keep your mind tranquil.” 

In a few moments after, when the carriage was 
compelled to pause at the base of a hill, the sound 
of a tolling bell was wafted distinctly on the eve- 
ning breeze. 

“ I am too late,” exclaimed the Rector, “I think 
that I am too late.” 

At last as they approached the place, a funeral 
]>roces8ion was distinctly visible. It was very long, 
composed of many carriages of all descriptions, 
and wont on at a snail’s pace It arrived at tho 


ST. bakdolph’s. 


325 


f ot of the hill, paused a few moments, then did 
not turn to the right in the direction of St. 
Lardr.lph’s church-jard, but through an opening 
into the fields. The doubt was solved. It was the 
funeral of the elder Williwillow, whose body was 
deposited in the family vault, newly builded on 
his own farm. Whatever good propensities had 
been born with this man were hereditary, and he 
retained and carried them with him to the grave 
Y/hatever evil propensities had been born with this 
ma' . were hereditary, and he retained and carried 
t'l m with him to the grave. There was a prayer 
which he repeated daily ; but the spirit of one of 
its chief petitions he had never learned— “ Forgive 
us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass 
against us.” For generations and for generations 
the AYilliwillows had retained possession of one 
distinctive trait, and the vault in which then- 
mortal remains are deposited, is a dull, dank 
-monument of an unforgiving heart. But God, who 
forbids us to judge our brother, may make allow- 
ance for an adamantine nature, and who can tell 
but when the tongue is palsied, and cannot utter 
the repentant word, Ilis Spirit, which is quick and 
powerful, may act upon its stubbornness as with 
thd softest w-ax. 

The Hector’s house was full of people of the 
kind found on such occasions The ^Id family 


THE KECTOB OF 


32fl 

II irce was there, with that qniet composure of mien 
which inspires confidence in tie recovery of a sick 
person. There was the bustling Mrs. Spangles, , 
with wild eye and flaring cap-strings, holding in 
her hands a useless bowl of calf’s feet jelly, and 
giving peremptory orders, as if she had been 
constituted the bead of affairs. In attendance in 
the hall, to answer continua; inquiry, stood the 
aged, respectable coloured man, body-servant of the 
late Mr. Van Sittart, and in the parlour, with a little 
group of people about him, stood that rock of 
comfort in a household of sickness and affliction, 
the beloved physician, with a face serene, yet 
solemn. The Eector conversed with him a momeut 
with incalculable calmness, then both ascended 
the stairs together. 

r>ut he had arrived too late to w’itness that last 
glow which lingers like a halo about the head of 
the dying; to feel that last grasp of a cold hand, 
which betokens of a heart yet warm and yearning; 
to receive those last gift- words which memory 
cherishes like jewels in her precious casket. He 
gazed upon his wife, but she was speechless. That 
night she died. To those who understood him not, 
there might have appeared something in his acqui- 
escence at this juncture which savored more of 
apathy and habitual reserve than of deadness from 
a suddeu blow, or of the sullen silence of despair. 


BT. BARDOLrU’S. 


327 


lie was, in fact, very ill indeed, but he moved 
about and communicated his orders as if nothing 
ailed him. When the lampe were lighted he sat 
down at his own table, |)ronounced a benediction, 
and partook of food. lie then retired to his library, 
just as the old sexton glided with muffled step 
through the house and up the stairs, arranged 
papers and wrote. Then he took one calm and 
deliberate glance at the shelves, and about the 
room, called the family together, read evening 
prayers, and dismissed them to 'their rest, while 
himself and the doctor remained for a few moments. 
But if the Rector displayed no grief, it arose from 
the fact that he felt as one who, after a long’ 
year’s toil, is satisfied that it has been a golden 
year to him, that his losses have been all repaired, 
and that his books are all balanced. The silken 
cords of love are only lerigthened, not broken. She 
who would have waved him a last larewell, would 
now beckon him a bright welcome. From yonder 
shore she appeared to stretch her radiant arms 
over the dark valley. After a long silence, as he 
took up his lamp to depart, he said with a smile, 

“ God has provided for one for whose welfare I 
was afraid. Shall I now mistrust Him who has 
promised to be a Father to the fathei’less 
The Reverend Doctor took his hand, and 
said, “I have been young, and now -vin old, yet 


328 


THE KECTOJi OF 


Hive I never seen tlie righteo.is forsaken, noi 1^3 
seed begging bread.” 

“ It is true as Holy Writ,” replied the Rector of 
St, Bardolpli’s. 

The unexpected death now recorded cast a deeji 
gloom over all the people. In, the houses of the 
rich and in the hovels of the poor, she had moved 
with eipial grace and jiropriety. She was fitted 
for her station even better than her liusbaod for 
his, which was no small praise, because her tact 
and adaptability were accompanied with the soft- 
ness and delicacy of a refined woman. She acted 
always from that deep and settled religious faitli, 
the want of which in any woman is a most painful 
and glaring deficiency. Without it, all mental 
endowment sheds only a baleful light ; all grace 
and beauty are but the drapery which mock tlie 
soul. And in no wise does religion so commend 
herself as in the embodied charity which glides 
noiselessly upon her errands, with the softness of 
an angel’s foot. A fussy spirit in the i)erf()rmance 
of good works, is a prevailing foible of the dav, 
and not the less disgusting when found in woman. 
This is religionism, not religion ; and as its motives 
are not so hidden that they cannot be divined, of 
this it maynot be said, “ its ways are ways of 
pleasantness, and its paths of peace.” 

The Rector’s wife^was particularly observalfie ii. 


ST. bakdolph’s. 


329 


this, that she shrank from observation. But the 
beautiful example which is given to the domestic 
circle has a diffusive influence, and is not lo^t upon 
the world. The light in a cottage may be seen afar 
off by the traveller, and though it be confined by 
walls, some casual eye shall peep upon the scene 
within. Thus, the holy secrecy is broken, that the 
world may profit ; and she who only fills an 
humble sphere, or makes a happy home, lights up 
a spark which may extend from house to house, 
and from generatirn to generation. She is like a 
pure and h ely statue in a sequestered niche, 
toward wh'cl’ innumerable pilgrims'turn from the 
uproar of the bcitten track, to gaze with silent 
admiration. Her expression beams with an all- 
conquering, holy love, while graceful drapery 
conceals the hand uplifted to do good. Thus, far 
and near the matchless tone and temper of the 
embodiment affects the harsher world, and from 
'that dim seclusion the light steals forth in far- 
extending rays. For I have sometimes seen in 
homes obscure and fartherest solitudes, pictures 
of Christian grace, and while I mourned the very 
fact to which they owed their moral beauty, the 
thought has come, here on this heart the impress is 
engraven, and will be seen by all who look upon 
this heart. Home touches home, and segment 
crosses segment, till, link by link, the golden chain 


THE RECTOR OF 


of brother! lood jt* made completo. Then ye wlio 
toil upon the edge of civilized space, and in the 
gloom of night, niahing that homely, yet that holy 
broidery for your babes, reflect how far the taper 
shines which guides your humble work — through 
the long valley, and across the stream, and on the 
desolate moor, and into vacant space. 

“ Far as a littlo candle casts its rays, 
tlo shines a Cfood deed in a naughty world.” 

T3ut the example of the departed more rc8en}blod 
that to which it is compared in Holy Scripture, 
even the general and diffusive light of day itself. 
Far in its lustre it was purely negative, composed 
of traits so sweetly and so intimately blended, that 
her ordinary life might challenge no remark, 
eni loyed in still, domestic duties, which do not 
see'’ for praise. Only in trial, or affliction, or in 
sternest need, would some peculiar virtue take its 
beautiful, distinctive hue ; just as in darkness and 
in weeping clouds the beams resolve themselves into 
pHsn)atio rays, and the arc of beauty spans the 
earth, whose key-stone is in heaven. How admir- 
able was the wife of the Rector of St. Bardolph’s ! 
and even when the breath had left her clay, an 
expression of angelic sweetness hovered over her 
icy lips, as if the departing spirit stamped with 


6T. BARDOLPil’s. 


331 


the image of triumphant Hope the seal which 
Death had set. When the last funeral rights had been 
performed, and the sympathetic concourse passed 
away from the grave of one whose memory lingered 
like the sweet perfume of the flowers which were 
to spring unbidden from the sod, the Rector still 
stood motionless, almost alone, and he murmured 
to himself those beautiful verses of the Bishop of 
Chichester to his deceased wife commencing thus : 

“ Sleep on my love in thy cold bod, 

Never to be disouieted.” 

“ See here, good Fennels,” he said to the old 
sexton, “ this spot is mine. Mark you, the time 
will not be long.” He shook his head and repeated, 
“ the time will not be long.” Then passing into 
the vacant church, w-hich seemed to cast back a 
cold, damp breath, and t3 strike directly to the 
Rector’s heart, he stood a moment in perfect 
silence, as if to collect and associate the remem- 
brances of years. There was one design which he 
had cherished lately, whose attempt he now deter- 
mined to forego, and that was to ascend that desk 
and pulpit once again, and to speak as only those 
can whose feet are in the grave. He relin-iuished 
it, not indeed from a sense of that veaknees, 
which in his case would have rendered it utterly 


332 


THE KECTOR OF 


impossible, but in accordance with a trait of that 
character which I have hitherto .jtteiopted to 
portray. For he thought to himself that occasions 
of this kind rather touch the feelings, call forth the 
transient tear, and give effect to oratory. But he 
had hitherto made his appeals to the calm mind, 
he had learned to rely little on the occasion of 
excitement, and if the words which he had alreadj» 
spoken had been disregarded, who would treasure 
up what he should say at last ? 

In this, perhaps, the Kector was mistaken, or 
carried a good principle too far. It is not neccssaiy 
to discuss the matter no.v. Passing into the small 
vestry-room attached to the Church, he took down 
« the book of Records, and with that habitual method 
which he still retained, maoe a last entry with his 
own hand. One little incident there occurred 
which may not be deemed unworthy of mention, 
for I have considered more trifling circumstances 
as not amiss to illustrate the narrative of a poor 
Rector. He passed into his own pew, which, as 
the custom is, was situatea near the head of the 
church. There, every thing reminded him of her 
who had so lately kneeled, a devout worshipper, a 
most humble listener to the Word of Truth ; the 
prayer-book, with a leaf turned down at the last 
page which she had perused, the bible marked at 
the proper lesson. He read for a few moments out 


8T. BARDOLPh’-^^. 


333 


of this, and closed the book at these words, She 
is not dead, but sleepeth.” 

lie cast his eye upon the cushioned seat and 
picked up a glove swollen and moulded in the 
exact impress of his wife’s little iiand. His eyes 
filled with tears, and, going home, he betook him- 
self to his bed, and laid it beside him on the 
pillow. 

* , * * * * * * 

It was a Sunday morning, and the day 
ushered in with that unclouded rising of tho f'lin, 
with that beauty and serenity so often shed upon 
the days of rest, which makes the earth resembh 
heaven. IIow welcome to the weary and the 
heavy-laden this short respite from drudging toil ! 
this change from dust and turmoil, and discord, 
and corroding care, to cleanliness, and quietude, 
and peace. The bells rang forth a merry peal, the 
crowds of well-dressed people thronged the streets, 
and the doors of St. Bardolph’s were, as usual, 
thrown open for the worship of God. But he 
whose voice had been so often heard witliiii its 
walls would never more press forward to those 
hallowed courts, which he had loved so well. 
Tranquil, and suffering little, he lay upon his bed, 
and as the day was balmy, and the windows of his 
room were open to admit the air, he could hear the 
sound of the organ, and when the playing of t. j 


334 : 


THE HECTOR OP 


voluntary had ceased, the low murmur f the CDn- 
gregation in the confession of eins. He tc-ok the 
book which lay beside him, and mingled his v'oicc 
with theirs. Step by step he followed througl> the 
lessons and solemn Litany, until just when the 
“ prayer lor a sick person” was about to be 
pronounced, he turned his taco unto the wall and 
died ! 

Thus, from the anthems of the Church on earth, 
he rose to the overwhelming music of the seraphim, 
and from the serenity of a Sabbath here, to that 
eternal rest which remains for the people of God. 

Why should I further seek to disclose his 
merits ? His career was too humble and devoid 
of incidents to be the theme of a romantic narra- 
tive, or to please the minds which are arrested 
only by the excising talc. It was not chosen for 
such an end. Its scope embraces the unvarying 
life and duty of a country parson, which latter the 
godly Herbert has treated of under the several 
heads of — “ his knowledge,” “ hio Sundays,” “ his 
praying,” “ his preaching,” “ his charity,” his 
comforting the sick,” “ his arguing,” “ his conde- 
scending,” “on his journey,” “in Jiis mirth,” 
“ with his church -wardens,” and “ blessing the 
people ;” — all matters, indeed, which have been 
lightly treated in the progress of this narrative, 
which bring into play- and serve to iiltistrate the 


8T BAliDOLPu’s. 


335 


profoundest principles of liuman action, and of 
nature, as well on a small theatre as upon a large. 
It is not expected or presumed that there will here 
be found a just occasion of offence, by the uphold- 
ers of any or of any atics ; for this would 
aftbrd regret to one who would not intentionally 
“ set down aught in malice.” But if these pages 
have been made the vehicle of inculcating in an 
unartistic form, and in the rambling order in 
which they have occurred, any just thoughts of 
the mutual relations w'hich spring up between a 
pastor and his people — betwdxt the clergy and the 
laity ; of duty, tact and discrimination on the one 
part, of respect and allegiance on the other, and 
of forbearance upon both, then the one design 
will be subserved, which has been sincerely held 
in view in writing The Kectok of St. Baroolph’s. 



^ ft 


Y ^ 

# t 


m • 

% • 


i'- 


- ■f •, • 




f- 


W - I 


ft* 


k*« 


■Af V ^ •• 

t -i- • .» 


».rT:' 


+. 

jC' 

V 
1 » 


•. 


» »• 




«» 


r 


p . 


ftr 




.•4 

k 1 » * fcv 


V 

. y 


’• ,• AO i *” 


/-•I 


•«l<\ • - ! 


,•' y<» 




« 


I . 


si . - ► ' 




*rr»>r, , 




. % •. 


^■■. ■ 

% • 


■ '; '. * :a.^x 


j » 


f ^ • 


• ^ 

» 




1 A * f 

\ • 




< • 


V , M 


• ♦ , ;l 

• » ^ ft / - * 


iPf,-. * • * 


.;» > 1 


ft « 

V 


. . .ft /, 

:V ! 


* ( 






n^r 


t‘ i 


. . * 4 . 


' '/.ft V'^. •* ^ ' ■ . 

' ?• 1 V '• • 


< , 

o i1 




» I 


w 


ft« 


^'f: 


I 

i w H 


/.V.- 


i • 


ft < 

f.- > 


' - / ft 

* ; fh.i 


ft 




j 


V.. 


ft * 


. ^ 




s 

# A 




.N 

• . V:. . 


J* '..; ]• > : j. ; 

/ ft 






..'•: t .:- 

4 

.» ♦ , • • 

ft 

< c^»' ; 


i 


I . 


ft 


'j 

I .' 


t ^ 


i • 


U >.■% 


1 

^ ^ J' 

•ft ^ 


1 

• 

/ * 

» . 

4 ft ^ 

; *4 

/ ^*T’ 

V 

i|v4 

0 

• 

V * J 

! »•. 

. J 



i • 

« 


f ft 


rtV 


^ 


^ • I ' ' • 

H9 •V'^ .* '# 

■\v.. 

• * ^ • ft* 


« V 


•>'? 


:.?:i 44 .?• ^ : 


» ’ ^ 


/ ’ 


« ft 




r 


r / 1 


i- . ^4 


W 


sUm 






i '*'’ ( ‘/ 


i 


• 4^ * 


'. ■■ .-• 7 *' 



♦••ft' 




,( , 






'. ' * 'y •' '**'• 


'•*yLA 


^ Tft 


4 ♦ 


I X 


t . 


V 

X 


ft 

NX. ^ 4 




ft ♦• • c 





■V^- 


> 


« ft • 


i> ft 




• <4 

> .'x..;Jr 4 i* 

* Y*. 


ft * ♦ .. 4 

.'-i •- 


« < 


,V 


r* ■ *r! ^ 

■V •. -t ,• 


) 




r. 


. ft 


' / . 


#» 

A m' 




APPENDIX. 


In the coui-se of the foregoing narrative I have quctfiJ 
occasionally from the good Curate, Bartoldus, where hia 
mode of speaking seemed better adapted to express mv 
own thoughts, thus sharing the responsibility, and it may 
be, fortifying myself with the opinions of a man so much 
older than myself. There is a Doric innocence and simpli. 
city in the tongue which our fathere spoke, which has an 
advantage over the present method of disguising thought ; 
and when I first began to write these memoirs, I had a 
mind to revert to the antique style, and attempt the whole 
in that way. But reflection persuaded me that it would 
not be judicious. The ideas of the several ages are natu- 
rally clothed upon with their own dress, which all things 
considered, is no doubt better suited to the constitution 
of the times; and although it may be well enough, now and 
then, for curiosity’s or antiquity’s sake, to draw forth as 
from a wardrobe the antiquated robes, the beautiful i-uffles 
which adorned the necks of our fathei-s, as a general thing 


338 


APPENDIX. 


to be free from affectation, it is better to clothe our bodies 
and our ideas according to the prevailing fashion. What- 
ever be the style most in vogue, it is not so stiff or arbi- 
trary that any native peculiarity of the wearer will not still 
be seen. To imitate any thing merely formal, such as style, 
if it be a governing passion, will condemn the imitator to 
ultimate oblivion, in an exact ratio with his apparent suc- 
cess. Ideas must take on a new shape. For that reason 
I have not taken my cue from Bartold, but I consider his 
suggestions so valuable, that I am willing to let him speak 
for himself. I therefore append one whole chapter of his 
“ Diarie,” touching upon 

Chricall Behaviour, Treatment, and Nolledge of y* World. 

“ I not profess to be so wondrous wise, and have ye natu- 
ral gift of prudence. At ye present fulnesse of yeres to 
which I am come, my head white as Soracte, my steps 
somewhat faltering, but my constitution unshaken, praised 
be God, I doe frequently those thynges which ye very next 
n’.oment I verily would were undone, and I say to myself, 
(my poor Dorothea be dead and gone,) Bartold, Bartold, 
you will never be a Solomon in wisdom ; you will never 
speak in proverb, unless mayhap your want of wisdom be a 
proverb. Bartold, Bartold, wherefore said you this to-day 
which you will call back to-morrow, yea, so far as y® Boreall 
winds be whistled back, when they have prostrated houses 
and uprooted y® pine tree from its deepest roots ? What 
good now come of it that you did let that overmastering 
temper get yo better at eventide of life, when in y® natural 
coui-se y® winds goe down ? Sad spectacle to Master Sher- 


APPENDIX. 


339 


locke to-day, when in argument he did sore press you, and 
you, foreooth, not having wherewithal to gaynsaye, must 
fall into an unseemlie temper, and so exhibit you as fifty 
years agone would have been a shame to you, when you first 
set foot iu All-Willows parish ; Master Sherlocke the mean- 
time neither losing temper nor argument, saying only with 
sorrowful reproaching, as he did turn on his heel, bona verba, 
bona verba, this speech from you. Master Bar told ! I am 
astonied out of measure ! And well might he be, that I, 
soe meek as Moses, I, who so often counsell in y® Convoca- 
tion to bear with one another’s weaknesses, suld all unpro- 
visedly wax probulgent in my old dales, take y® bit in my 
mouth, and oflf into a raging passyon. I much astonied 
mysell, and on yo morrow I goe penitentially to Dove Goto 
Hall, and I say. Master Sherlocke, I do much repent me of 
those acrid words, whereof I hope y® memorie hath already 
faded from your reci>llectyon. Yesternight, as I did see y« 
sun goe down so calm, so glorious to his chamber, T dyd 
bethink me or ever he did reach y® horozin’s edge, so help 
me God, go down he must not on my wrath. Wherefore 
come I to you. Master Sherlocke, and bear you witness with 
y® sun, that I did foolishly vent forth those irritabel expres- 
syons ; and then Master Sherlocke he did laugh, and take 
me by the hand, and first in y® librarie we did converse to- 
gether, and look into great folios, works of prodigious learn- 
ing, wrote by Church of England men, then to y® garden, 
where we did pull Apricots from y® wall, and talk to y« gar- 
dyner, and so I goe home somewhat satiated and composed* 
This be but an ensampel, (woe is me,) of y® headway I have 
made in y® governing mine own self, reckoning betwixt y* 


340 


APPENDIX. 


tender down of juvenility and y® hirsute beard of age. 
And what if it had been not Master Sherlocke, but one of 
ye parish men, that I did soe give way to ? Should it not 
bring me into a world of troubell, and mayhap no end of it, 
as when once by quick replie I did offend my Lord of Hamp- 
ton, w'hereatt he did spurn me with cold contempt there- 
after, and did hold me excommunicate (y* more shame for 
him) from his sociall board, until reprobate he died ? And 
much vexation and troubel sundrie, have I passed through in 
ye control of y® parish ; and if so be that y® experience of 
yeres do now keep me in a measure clear, save on occasion when 
I do forget me, as with Master Sherlocke, most assuredly y® 
experience hath been of a dear cost, and hath turned my 
hair grey, and hath gone over my brow with furrowes, and 
hath marred my countenance, as witness, y® companions of 
my youth, y® change from that sanguineous freshness to 
dulness of complexyon and an unbeaming eye. Had I 
my life to go over once again, which I am not sorrie is now 
so near its goal, methinks that I would do differently. Yet 
who shall say that experience, however painful, worketh not 
patience, and that through much tribulation we enter into 
y® kingdom of God ? That it is good to avoid strife and 
misunderstandynge, and altercayon, I doe yet sincerelie be- 
lieve, for y® which cause I think soberly that y® Parish 
Priest should begin with more pietie, more educacyon, and 
more true nolledge of y® world, than falls to y® lot of most 
younge men, who enter into Holy Orders. Y® pietie, and 
y educacyon, be presumed, or be proven by y® various or- 
deals, and to satisfacyon of yo doctoi-s ; but as to y® other 


APPENDIX. 


311 


no'iledge, it be not require. If y® dogmatics be correct, and 
y* thesis in tolerable Latin, y« youth may enter upon his 
curacy, and for y® rest, God help him. Howbeit, 
if he bungle, no miracle to be expected but he must 
stand y® consequens of y® said bungling. If he know not 
when to hold his tongue, or when to speak out like a true 
man, if he do speak to y® common peopel as I to Master 
Sherlocke, (for they not able to parry, and be only wroth,) 
if he be not circumspect, that is to saie, looking all round 
y® compass with as many eyes as y® butterflies, but with 
none of ye volatility, gaudinesse, and flower-lovynge propen- 
sitie of y® butteifly, then he not accomplyshe y® ends for the 
which he think he be truly sent. More principally should 
y® countrie curate be more skillfull and accurate in y® like 
attainment than y® great metropolitan, for it be as hard to 
grappel with y® littell as with ye great, to see a mole hill as 
to upsett a mountain. There be no such thynges as great- 
ness or lyttleness except by y® standard of God. To y® ant» 
his mole hill seem a mountain, and to y® angels our high 
thynges seem as nought. But y® mountain and y° mole 
hill, and y® high things, all level, so littel be their difference, 
in y® infinite distance through which looks on them y® eye 
of God. Hence, in world lie matters, have we to learn 
neither to despise y® littel, nor to fear y* great, but so to de- 
mean oui’selves as to come down to y® one, and to rise with 
Christianlike and manlie dignitie to y® other, if so be we 
wish not to do good to neither, nor to gain y® contempt of 
both. For y® countiie curate much need hath he of a nobil 
patience, and of a Christian forbearynge, forasmuch as he 


342 


APPENDIX. 


receiveth lyttel, and there is expected of him much. But 
and if he be a true man, not will he grumble at ye £50 per 
annum which they do vouchsafe out of their abundance, for 
of a suretie he hath well studied it beforehand, that he doth 
forswear all desire of luxuries, or great richesse, in return 
for costlie educacyon, and mastership of arts ; and if he doe 
desire more than be worthie of a workman’s hire, or more 
than be necessarie to his needs, then of a truth he be not 
fit for his callynge ; nay, if he be not cheerfully willing to 
put up with less, and to be like his master, Christ. But 
well must he undei-stand that there be some few of his peo- 
pel, and these few enough to troubel ye waters, and set y» 
whole parish in commotion, who doe expect y* full posses- 
sion of his bodie and his soule, albeit y® major part be well 
content if he doe set forth y® word of God correctly, and 
doe reverentlie say y* prayers on y® Lord’s Daies, and chris- 
ten y® children of y® parish, and visit y® sick, and bune y* 
dead, and show forth y® spirit of brotherlie kindnesse. Me. 
thiuks there be no parish in y® land where y® major part be 
not exceedinge kind and hospitabel to y® clergy, and right 
willing to listen to their instruction ; but he be at y® mercie 
of y® few, who doe y® talk, which in due time come back to 
his ears, and who, being disaffected for some littel cause, 
scatter y® seeds of bad report, which straightway springing 
up, be propagated y® countrie round. If, as we say, he be 
a countrie curate, soe will they mind hys businesse, not their 
owne, and doe hold him public property, and make y® poor 
man y® towne talk, watching all his motions when he goeth 
out, and when he cometh in. One sayth, trulie he goeth to 


APPENDIX. 


343 


such and such a place oftener than he cometh hither, which 
doth show that he loveth good cheer more than is becoin- 
ynge in one of his cloth ; or such and such come here to be 
his companie who be men of y® world ; or he doth vacate 
3 ® parish too much, going to London town to seek his own 
pleasaunce; or he drinketh wine, (which soon spreadeth to 
y® lying rumor that he be hiordinately attached to it;) or he 
dabble in literary thynges to eke out his insufficient stipend > 
or he will marry such and such an one, which be none of 
their businesse. Verilie, such downright impertinence be not 
tolerated in other callynge, and it be only tolerated to him 
who be not conscious of intentional offence, and be sustained 
by y® right spirit. For these thynges be thorns in 3’® flesh, 
and do show y® cleric y® need of greater reservation, if so be 
that he may avoid y® scandal of evill tongues, for and if he 
doe fifty good deeds, and do slip or trespass but a lyttyl, 
they forthwith make y® same a handle. But what of that 
since y® others be disposed to be lenient to those frailties, and it 
be good for all men to be overlookit by y® more severe cen- 
sors, whereby they be constrained to y® most rigorous strait- 
nesse of conduct which is becomynge. For y® which cause 
ye nolledge of me>i be as valuabel as book nolledge, that 
you may soe study their temper and disposition as give them 
no just occasyon of complaining. For thou knowest full 
well, Bartoldy, when thou tookest thy vows upon thee, that 
troubel must needs come, especially to him who would do 
his Master’s bidding ; therefore, gird up the loins, be cheer- 
full, do thy work well, repent thee of thy short comings, be 


344 


APPENDIX. 


guarded ; as much as Heth in thee, live peaceably wiih all 
men. These minor troubels, bear like a Christian man, 
meeklie, and let it be thy dailie prayer, and study both thy- 
self and others, to avoid y® cause of troubel.” 


f 


r3 0 93 
l/\ 


1 







* • 


I M o 






^ ' iy 

o ^ 4 > . $ 





« # 


..•* ^'^^% Mp/ /\ ^ 




<^ •‘^ ^y *-«- A' 

.VW. /^-. .►; 



<^ "'-TTT* ,0 




c ® V' ■» 

-=/ : 


i* 0^ ^ * 

* I, ^ 




'K. <:y o' 


V ,.., '-“ 




0 ^ nT * ' ‘ ' ^ 

* "o 

, 'V ‘ " aS'^ 'C* "''i'.'** O' 

fO oo"-^ 

• ^0^ • '* ^o ® ^\N\\\u '•k 

•* ® jL^ v\ *■ 'I • 4 0 

.V ^^llTO^s::^ ^ d- ^ ^ 





» • o 







• a' <> •>f^f'' .0^ % --f.^;- , 

-)•»■ •^'' '"■#■ tO^ ‘•^*, °o -J* 


CV, - 

,> \^ » • V 

t ,®ii3». <? 



- '^o ° ^ 

^ A 0 V^ - ^ ^ ^ 

r^ % ^ 

"«* rtO d^ * ^I> ^ . 

i^o'^ °.. *.T.” .o- 

r .'^%#’a'< , 

". "»ap«’. :mm:. 



•c ''TTT' ■ **a’^ ^ ., . 

', -Kp^ .® 'J^^' ~ .’.^Sia'' 't. C. *• 

• a 1 ^ I ■l^Jrx • ^ * 'D4>^^ ^sSp5 • 

’ ^ jP 

h.» _ #T|kJlV^^» » V ^j. 

^O •’Tr^* o'^ ^ 

*v .•• 'h. ^ ‘^ '*< 

^*® "" 

- ** * ' 





^ ■,j=l ' ■* ^ o iP *• 



HECKMAN 

BINDERY INC. 

NOV 92 


N. MANCHESTER, 
INDIANA 46962 


=■ ' . \ . aVa'* -ec 

*• * C*; 







LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 





